


Magic Rhysie

by ZellieAlmasy



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Slow Burn, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 44,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZellieAlmasy/pseuds/ZellieAlmasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys only wanted the bartending position, but Jack, the owner of a strip club, sees great potential in Rhys as a performer. (Will eventually get smutty, I promise!) (Also I'm pretty terrible at coming up with titles, so oops, sorry about that.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The New Guy

Traffic was worse than Rhys thought it would be. He had a four o’clock job interview, and found himself just barely pulling into the parking lot at 3:57. He was interviewing for a job at a strip club called “Hyperion,” but Rhys still wanted to leave a good impression.

The man who owned the club was fairly well known around town, partly for his good looks and how disgustingly rich he was, but mostly for his intimidating demeanor and ruthless business tactics. It definitely didn't sound like Rhys wanted to be on this guy's bad side, so he made extra sure to look clean and professional. 

Tardiness, however, was not a great way to start the interview, so he hurried inside and was immediately greeted by a very muscular, bearded man. 

“We're closed,” he grunted, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Actually, I'm here for an interview,” Rhys said with a polite smile, extending his hand for shaking. “I'm Rhys.” 

The large man simply gave Rhys an unimpressed look and nodded towards the booths at the back of the room. “Jack isn't here yet. Have a seat.” 

After Rhys was so worried about running late, the club owner wasn't even here yet. So much for looking professional. He sat down at one of the tables and started playing on his phone to pass the time. As more time passed, Rhys was starting to grow anxious. Did the owner forget about him? 

Five o’clock rolled by, and various men and women began to enter the club. The large man, who must have been the bouncer, gave them all brief nods, so Rhys could only assume they were other employees getting ready to start their shifts for the night. 

After another half hour, Rhys was starting to wonder if this job would even be worth waiting so long, but the front door opened again as someone new arrived. He had neatly styled brown hair with flecks of gray, and he wore a gray sport coat over a bright yellow shirt and skinny jeans. Though he looked older, he was still extremely handsome. 

The bouncer stepped forward, greeting the man as he entered the building. “Your four o’clock’s waiting,” the larger man spoke up. 

This must be him, Rhys thought. Finally, he could have his interview with this “Jack.” 

“Shit, I forgot. Thanks, Wilhelm,” Jack grumbled, running a hand over his hair. “What time is it?” 

“Five thirty.” 

“And they're still here? Someone's desperate for a job.” With a tired chuckle, he turned away from his bouncer and made his way over to the booth where Rhys had been waiting. 

Jack invited himself to plop down on the opposite side of the table, causing the other man to give a startled jump. “All right, kiddo--” 

“It's Rhys, sir,” the young man spoke up. “It's really such a pleasure to meet you.” 

“Yeah, sure whatever. Let's just get this over with,” Jack said dismissively. “What music are you working with?” 

“Um. Music?” 

“Yeah, for your audition.” Jack nodded to one of the poles on a nearby stage. 

Rhys’ face turned a light shade of pink at the suggestion. “Oh! No, no, I'm not here for… for that. I'm applying for the bartender job.” 

Jack rested his chin on his hand, idly glancing over Rhys. “You sure?” 

The younger man's eyes widened, surprised that a man in such high standing would think he was qualified to be a dancer. “Yes, I'm sure.” 

With a sigh, Jack pulled himself back to his feet, nodding for Rhys to follow, and led him over to the bar. He leaned against the countertop, and now that the younger man was standing, Jack gave him another shameless, lingering gaze. “Seriously, pumpkin, I've been short a dancer forever, and you'd be a great fit. I mean, those _legs_...” 

“No, thank you,” Rhys hesitantly replied. “I've never, uh… I would rather keep my clothes on while I work.” 

“What a waste,” Jack snorted. “Fine. If you really want this lameass bartending job, then go ahead. Mix me a drink.” 

Rhys paused, raising an eyebrow at Jack. “Don't you want to hear my qualifications?” 

“It's bartending, not rocket science.” Jack rolled his eyes. “Gimme an old fashioned.” 

The young man awkwardly moved behind the bar, taking a moment to get familiar with the setup. Jack impatiently drummed his fingers on the countertop as he waited, which only gave Rhys even more anxiety. Thankfully, it wasn't long before he managed to find the bourbon and bitters, and he quickly whipped up the requested drink. 

Instead of taking slow sips to consider the flavor and quality of the drink, Jack took the glass and quickly gulped it down. Rhys couldn't be sure that the man was even able to taste anything, he downed it so fast. Yet Jack still responded with a relieved sigh and announced, “You're hired.” 

“Seriously? That's it?” Rhys was stunned. This was easily the most unusual job interview he'd ever had. 

“What, you want a job or not?” Jack said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, of course. I just--” 

Jack cut him off as he continued to speak, “Great, you start tonight. We open in…” He paused to squint at the watch on his wrist. “...ten minutes. Good luck.” 

“Hang on just a minute,” Rhys frowned. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for this job opportunity, but this was all just a bit too unorthodox. “Don't I get some sort of training?” 

“You _can_ mix drinks, can't you?” 

“Well, yeah, but--” 

“So, somebody orders, you make the drink, and take their money. There you go, training done.” But Rhys still had this hopeless look on his face. With a sigh, Jack added, “If you're still having trouble, Angel will be here any minute. She'll show you the ropes.” 

Before Rhys could say anything else, Jack took leave of his new employee and disappeared into his office, leaving Rhys to stand cluelessly at the bar, waiting for this “Angel.” Now, that was a stripper name if Rhys ever heard one. He supposed that was something he'd have to get used to now - coworkers with names like Rocket or Chastity. 

But once she finally arrived, Angel was nothing like Rhys expected. She wore a snug blouse with the top few buttons left open, showing a tasteful amount of cleavage that would allow a bartender to get a decent amount of tips, and a pencil skirt to show off her slim figure. She could almost fit into an office setting, rather than a strip club, if it hadn't been for the shaved side of her head, or the fact that she was covered in tattoos. 

“You must be the new guy,” she greeted with a friendly smile. “I'm Angel.” 

It was so refreshing to finally meet a friendly face around here. Rhys smiled back and offered her a handshake as he introduced himself. 

“Let me guess, Jack abandoned you here without a hint of direction?” 

“Yep! That pretty much covers it.” 

“Don't worry. I've been doing this for a long time.” Angel's tone remained soft and friendly, but there seemed to be a hint of sadness in her smile as she referenced her time working here. 

It didn't take long for Rhys to become more confident with Hyperion's systems. He already knew how to make drinks, so the register was really the only new thing he needed to learn, anyway. By the time the club opened, Rhys already felt like he had a decent handle on everything. The first couple hours were fairly slow, which gave Rhys plenty of opportunities to practice on the few regulars who showed up before the real crowds arrived. The slow pace also gave him time to glance over at the dancers every now and again. Angel gave him a playful jab every time she caught him, and Rhys quickly turned away with a faint blush and find some glasses to clean for the hundredth time. 

For having just been hired a couple hours ago, he had been doing fairly well once the pace finally did pick up. Before long, Jack even came back out of his office and took a seat at the bar, which made Rhys a bit nervous, having the owner so close while he worked. Thankfully, Jack didn't seem too interested in observing his new employee. The older man relaxed and kept his eyes glued to the stage, for the most part. Rhys began to approach him to take his drink order, but Angel quickly brushed past him and set a drink down in front of Jack. 

“Thanks, baby girl,” he muttered as he took the glass, then turned back towards the stage. 

Without a word, Angel stepped away and went back to the customers, her face taking on a more solemn expression. There seemed to be something unusual between the two of them. Rhys could tell that much, but he wasn't about to pry. 

However, Angel caught him giving her that curious look, and she knew exactly what it was for. “He orders the same thing every night,” she said dismissively with a polite smile. Angel offered no information on her brief change in demeanor, which only made Rhys even more curious. Still, he respected her privacy and continued working normally. 

As the night went on and the customers grew more drunk and unruly, one man in particular decided that he grew bored ogling the actual dancers and focused his attention on Angel instead. The girl handled it with grace, undoubtedly used to this boorish behavior by now, but the man wouldn't let up. 

“C’mon, baby,” he purred. “At least gimme a little private show. What d’ya say?” He finally overstepped his boundaries, reaching behind the bar to grab at Angel's backside. 

Wilhelm, who had been standing attentively all night, saw the interaction and was already on his way to throw the man out of the club. Before anyone knew what was happening, Jack was suddenly there, pulling the man away from Angel. With one hand curling at the front of the man's shirt and the other gripping his throat, Jack shoved the man roughly against the wall. The impact shook the cabinets behind the bar, causing several glasses to fall over and shatter. 

“Get your hands off my Angel,” Jack snarled, speaking each word in a slow, threatening tone. “You don't even _look_ at her.” The man gurgled as Jack's grip tightened on his throat, showing that he very clearly wasn't playing around. “If I see your crappy little face in my club again, I'm cutting off your nuts. Got it?” 

Unable to speak, the man quickly nodded as best as he could with Jack's hand around his throat. 

“Good.” Jack finally released the man and began to step away. “Wilhelm, take out the trash.” 

With a nod, the bouncer scooped up the man and unceremoniously chucked him back out onto the street. 

A few of the customers gaped at the display, while the regulars were simply unfazed. Rhys, however, looked absolutely stunned. This was only his first day of work, and everything had happened just so quickly. 

“Better close that mouth, kiddo,” Jack smirked at Rhys as he returned to his seat at the bar, “or else you might catch a fly.” 

Rhys’ jaw immediately snapped shut, fearing what the smallest bit of defiance might cost him. He turned away to try and focus back on work, but he couldn't help but notice Angel, who had been standing off to the side, arms folded over her torso. 

“Hey,” Rhys addressed her, head tilted to the side. “You all right?” 

“I'm fine,” she coolly replied. Her face didn't seem to show any sort of fear or discomfort. Instead, she looked a bit annoyed, oddly enough. “Jack does this all the time.” She sighed, shaking her head. 

“You mean, that was _normal_?” Rhys’ eyebrows nearly raised to his hairline. 

Angel gave him a small, comforting smile. “Jack can have a bit of a temper… to put it lightly. But you don't need to worry. Just follow my lead, and you'll be fine.” 

That was so easy for her to say. After what Rhys just witnessed, Angel seemed like the last person who would ever be in danger from Jack. Meanwhile, Rhys was worried he might get strangled just for looking at her the wrong way. 

The growing demands of the customers didn't give Rhys time to worry about this too much, though. He quickly got pulled back into his work and was eventually able to calm back down, now that everything was back to normal. Much to his relief, the rest of the night went on without further incident. 

After the last customers left for the night, Rhys went about cleaning the tables. Just as he finished his scrubbing, he began to return to the bar, but he noticed Angel speaking with Jack again, looking fairly upset. 

“I'm not a little girl anymore,” she spoke firmly, trying to keep her voice low, but Rhys couldn't help but overhear. “I can handle myself.” 

“Angel, sweetheart…” Jack began to reply, but Angel cut him off once she noticed the new hire nearby. 

“Rhys!” she brightly called out to him. “Looks like we're done for the night.” Turning away from Jack, she picked up her purse and motioned for Rhys to follow her to the door. “I bet you can't wait to get home.” 

“Are you sure I…” Rhys hesitsted, looking between Angel and Jack. He didn't want to upset his boss if he didn't actually have permission to leave. 

“Go on, get out of here,” Jack said impatiently with a wave of his hand. 

“Thank you, sir!” Rhys replied before quickly following Angel outside. 

“You did well for your first day,” she said as they walked to their cars. 

“Yeah?” Rhys grinned at the compliment. “I wasn't even expecting to start this soon, but I guess it wasn't so bad. Minus the, uh, ‘outburst,’ of course.” 

“About that…” She frowned slightly. “I wouldn't blame you if you decided not to show up tomorrow.” 

“Pfft. It's gonna take more than that to scare me away,” Rhys said with a cocky tone, trying to make up for his shock earlier in the evening. “And I really kind of need the money, so I'll see you later!” 

As they said their goodbyes and Rhys entered his own little junker, he glanced over to see Angel getting behind the wheel of a sleek, fancy sportscar. How in the hell did a strip club bartender afford a car like that? After everything he had seen tonight, he felt it was pretty safe to assume that there was something going on between Angel and Jack, so it was very likely that he could have bought that car for her. 

But why would a girl like Angel mess around with Jack? Rhys wondered while he drove home. She was young and pretty, but Jack was older, rich, and… okay Rhys couldn't deny that he was extremely good-looking too. Maybe, then, it did make more sense than Rhys originally thought. A guy like Jack could easily have any of the men or women working for him. Rhys wouldn't be surprised if he _was_ involved with any dancers, aside from Angel. 

For some reason, these thoughts made Rhys’ gut feel like it was tied in knots, but he didn't know why. It was probably just a mix of stress and exhaustion from his first day on the job. It was nearly four in the morning, so he very obviously needed sleep. 

His roommate was still in bed by the time Rhys got home, which was perfectly fine. Vaughn could hear all about Rhys’ first day of work after he got some sleep. He went straight to his bedroom and fell onto his mattress like a sack of bricks. Without even bothering to undress, Rhys fell right to sleep almost as soon as his head landed on the pillow.


	2. Double Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically a filler chapter. Rhys settles into his new job anz learns (and assumes) surprising new things about his boss!

Now that Rhys was a bartender, it meant dressing nicely and charming customers so that they would leave good tips. He never had the greatest fashion sense, but he tried his best to prepare for his second day of work at his new job. There wasn't a very wide selection of clothes in his closet, but Rhys eventually found something that ought to be acceptable. He decided on a blue-gray button-down shirt, leaving the top few buttons unfastened, and tucked it into a well-fitted pair of skinny jeans that showed off his legs quite nicely.

Before Rhys left the apartment, Vaughn expressed his strong disapproval that his roommate was actually going back to that place. He heard every shocking detail from the night before, and was horrified to hear about the club owner’s unpredictable behavior. Though, he couldn't argue much, since they really needed the extra income. It had been so difficult to even land an interview in this economy, that Rhys couldn't be too picky about who decided to hire him. 

He arrived to the club perfectly on time and was greeted with a nod and a smile that seemed oddly cheerful for the bouncer’s usual gruff, intimidating demeanor. Angel was also already there, preparing the bar for the evening. She looked up with raised eyebrows, greeting Rhys with a smile as he walked in. 

“You came back!” She said, surprised. “Wilhelm and I had a little bet going.” Her smile faded slowly as she added, “I owe him $20. Crap-- er, I mean, darn.” 

Odd, that a woman who worked in a strip club bar, of all places, would be cautious about her language, but Rhys didn't let that quirk distract him from the more important issue here. “You guys were betting on me?” 

Angel just gave an apologetic smile and laughed softly in response. “Sorry. But I am happy to see you came back after all. It's nice to have some extra help behind the bar. I was starting to think Jack was never going to hire someone.” 

“He tried to get me to audition as a dancer, at first,” Rhys offered in an amused tone. “What’s his deal, anyway? He’s uh, you know. Different.” With such an unusual first impression, Rhys couldn't help but be a little curious about Jack, yet he didn't want to use any words that might offend Angel, if Jack really was her boyfriend. 

“Don't be fooled by his bad temper. Deep down, he's a real jerk,” Angel joked, but Rhys could tell there was truth to her statement as well. 

There was a moment of hesitation, but he finally decided to get a little nosy. “If he's really that bad, why do you stay?” 

Angel lowered her eyes and gave a slight shrug. She did her best to keep a polite smile as she answered, “Jack pays the bills.” 

It seemed that every new piece of information only gave Rhys even more questions. Was this some sort of “kept woman” situation? Did Jack have something over her to force her to stay? It seemed a bit concerning, but Rhys didn't have any time to keep worrying over it. The doors were unlocked, and before long, the first customers of the night started piling in. 

The club had been open for some time before Jack finally decided to make an appearance. He went straight to the bar, pushing past other customers who had been waiting to order. “Hit me with the usual,” he demanded. 

“Yes, Daddy,” Angel immediately replied and went about fixing the drink. 

Rhys was stunned. So that's the sort of thing Jack was into? And so casually, in front of all these people? In his head, Rhys repeated over and over to himself to just act normally, but all he could do was just stand there, gaping like a fool as he glanced between the two of them. 

“Watch out for your new pet, Angel.” Jack glanced at his new employee with a smirk while Angel set the drink on the countertop. “I think he's checking me out.” 

“What?! No!” Rhys protested, immediately averting his gaze. “It's not like that!” 

“Hey, it's fine, kiddo,” Jack smirked, glancing over Rhys before walking away with his drink. “It’d actually be weirder if you weren't attracted to me.” 

“But I--!” Rhys continued, but it was too late. Jack had already disappeared into his office. In truth, however, there was something undeniably attractive about his boss. It was easy to see he how he earned the nickname “Handsome.” With such a powerful, good-looking guy flirting with him like that, Rhys couldn't help but feel a bit flustered. 

Of course, he knew not to look too much into things. He still believed Jack was with Angel, if not several other people. Rhys had too much self respect to be drawn in as a rich man’s plaything. Even if he were single, the club owner seemed dangerous. It would be smart not to get tangled up in Jack’s game, whatever that may be. 

Angel didn't seem too bothered by Jack’s flirting, though. She simply rolled her eyes and continued working, so Rhys followed her example and did the same. 

Focusing on mixing drinks actually helped him relax. Even though it was just his second day, the repetitive work made it easy to fall into a rhythm, serving drink after drink. On the rare occasion that someone ordered a drink Rhys had never heard of, Angel was there to happily talk him through it. 

Any thoughts about Jack had been happily pushed to the back of Rhys’ mind. Before long, however, one of the dancers quickly caught his attention. He froze, staring wide-eyed at the stage as he watched the dancer who was currently grinding his hips on the pole. 

_”Jack?!”_ Rhys exclaimed. 

But just as he was about to demand answers from Angel, the club owner stepped out of his office and took a seat near the stage to watch the show. Rhys rubbed his eyes, making sure he was seeing things correctly. Jack was sitting in the audience, sipping his drink, yet he was also on stage, almost naked and writhing against the pole in such a way that made Rhys’ blood shoot straight to his groin. How could the man literally be in two places at once? 

Rhys gave Angel an urgent nudge and nodded to the stage. “Wh-why is… _Why?_ ” 

“Oh!” she giggled at Rhys’ confusion. “That's Timothy. He was desperate to pay for school, so Jack gave him a raise if he agreed to cosmetic surgery.” 

That made almost less sense than the idea that Jack could be in two places at once. “But… _why?_ ” It seemed Rhys was unable to form any other words. 

“I'd rather not think about that,” Angel said with a cringe. 

Rhys tried to look away and get back to work, but he was completely mesmerized. Everything about this was so bizarre, but he was entranced by the way Timothy obscenely rolled his hips, pushing his groin towards the audience. Rhys had to wonder exactly how similarly Timothy was built to look like the other man. Was it just the same face, or did Jack have that body as well? These were the last thoughts Rhys ever wanted to have about his boss, but it was so difficult to keep his mind from wandering when Jack’s body double was right there on stage, wearing nothing but skin-tight booty shorts. 

As the song came to an end and Timothy left the stage, the spell was finally broken. Rhys lowered his eyes and meant to get back to his work, but he caught a glimpse of Jack staring right at him with a big, predatory grin on his face. 

Rhys’ face heated up as he quickly turned away to help one of the customers, hoping that Jack hadn't caught him staring for so long. Maybe if he looked busy, Jack would just leave him alone. 

No such luck. 

The club owner confidently strode over to the bar and made himself comfortable on one of the stools. Rhys kept his eyes on the drink he was mixing, but he could practically feel Jack’s gaze on him as he tried to work. 

“My boy Timothy puts on quite a show, huh?” the boss spoke up as Rhys served the drink to a customer. 

“It was, um…” He hesitated, not sure what to say. If he agreed, it would sound like a confession that he was attracted to his boss. If not, then that would be a clear insult. “Interesting?” 

Jack laughed and reached across the bar to give Rhys a light smack on the arm. “No point in holding back, Kiddo. The bit of drool on your chin says it all.” 

Alarmed, Rhys immediately wiped at his mouth, but thankfully, there was nothing actually there. “I'm not drooling!” 

“No, but you might as well have. I saw that look you were giving Timothy.” 

Rhys quickly shook his head in denial. “I was just surprised!” 

“And that surprise lasted the whole time TimTams was up there dancing, huh?” 

With a huff, Rhys tried to turn away and avoid the discussion. “I need to get back to work.” 

Jack replied with another chuckle. “Worried you'll get fired for slacking off? I own this place, cupcake, in case you forgot.” 

Rhys gave a desperate look in Angel's direction, hoping she could rescue him from Jack's relentless teasing, but she was too distracted helping all the customers left neglected by her coworker. 

“I just… The orders are really backing up. Angel looks like she needs help,” he insisted. 

“Well aren't you an obedient little flunky. I like that.” Jack smirked, then turned away from Rhys to call out another order. “Angel, honey, how about a refill?” 

Angel acknowledged him with a nod and a moment later, handed Jack a new drink. Before he left, he turned to give Rhys a little wink. “Try not to get too obsessed with me, sweetheart.” 

Rhys slouched over the bar, face turning beet red as he buried his head in his hands. He never meant for any of this to happen, but now he risked the entire workplace thinking he was lusting over the boss. Maybe Rhys did notice Jack’s good looks, but it really wasn't as big a deal as the owner made it out to be. 

“Don't let him get to you,” Angel spoke up, giving Rhys a pat on the shoulder. 

He stood upright, facing her with a frown. “Look, I just want to make it clear that I'm not after him, or anything like that,” he emphasized. 

Angel raised an eyebrow in amusement. “It's fine, Rhys. That's just how Jack is. He's only feeding his own ego.” 

“No shit,” he snorted. “The guy just watched his half-naked lookalike dancing on stage.” 

“Ew,” Angel replied with a little chuckle as she started to step away. “Come on. Booth six is waiting for a pitcher of beer.” 

Rhys gladly jumped back to work and helped prepare the line of drinks that queued up while he was distracted. Thankfully, he managed to easily focus back on his job, but this time, the conversations with Jack continued to nag at the back of Rhys’ mind. 

At least the night continued without any other unexpected surprises. Aside from discovering Jack had a stripper body double, day two on the job was fairly normal. 

Once Rhys finally returned home, he carefully entered the apartment so as not to wake his roommate, who he was sure would already be asleep. However, he noticed a faint glow coming from Vaughn’s bedroom. Rhys poked his head in to find that his friend was, in fact, wide awake with his full attention on his computer screen. 

“Bro…” He spoke up, but the other man didn't seem to hear over the headset he was wearing. 

Rhys took a few steps closer, and Vaughn caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He nearly jumped right out of his seat before his eyes focused and he realized it was just his roommate coming home from work. 

“Shit, Rhys, you nearly gave me a heart attack!” Vaughn exclaimed, then spoke into the headset, “Sorry, guys. That was just the roommate.” With a hand on his microphone, he briefly turned to his friend again. “Gimme a minute.” 

Rhys made himself at home, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched the other man finish up a group raid in his Fringeworlds game. Before long, Vaughn and his party finished up the boss fight and congratulated each other on a good game before logging off. 

“Thought you'd be asleep by now,” Rhys commented as his roommate finally took off his headset. 

Vaughn swiveled his chair to face Rhys with a dissatisfied look on his face. “And I thought you might get murdered by now. Though, I'm glad you weren't…” 

“Seriously, bro? The club isn't _that_ bad.” Rhys leaned back on his hands, giving a little grin of reassurance. 

“You're the one who told me how the owner went totally nuts on that one customer, _bro._ ” The usually affectionate term was coated in sarcasm as Vaughn spoke. 

“The dude was an asshole.” He shrugged indifferently. “He deserved it.” 

“What happens when Jack decides _you_ deserve it?” Vaughn anxiously leaned forward in his seat. “Maybe… Maybe he'll think you're getting a little too friendly with Angel, and he'll attack you next!” 

Rhys snorted dismissively. “No way.” 

“What makes you so sure?” 

“Well…” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as he sat upright again. “Jack might accidentally think that I'm kind of attracted to him…” 

_”Bro…”_ Vaughn’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why in the hell would he think that?!” 

“He maybe caught me staring at his half naked body double?” That's definitely what happened, but somehow, Rhys felt like posing it as a question might soften the news. 

At first, Vaughn just sat speechlessly with no idea where to begin with that statement. “The guy has a body double? That's really not normal, Rhys. _And why were you even staring at him?_ ” 

“It was an accident! I mean, the guy is pretty hot…” 

“Rhys, no…” Vaughn buried his face in his hands with a muffled groan. “No no no no no, what are you getting yourself into?” 

“Nothing’s gonna happen,” he reassured with an exasperated sigh. “I'll be more careful from now on. I promise.” 

“Just promise you'll keep looking for a different job,” Vaughn pleaded. “Speaking of jobs, I'm gonna have to drop the internet next month.” 

“What?!” Rhys jolted upright. “No! Why?!” 

“The bills are too much. It's either the internet or the water…” 

“Hang on. I've got this, bro.” Rhys reached over to place a hand on his roommate’s shoulder. “My paycheck won't be in for a couple weeks, but I've been getting some decent tips. I'll cover the water bill.” 

Vaughn’s eyebrows raised in a hopeful expression. “You sure?” 

“Definitely. I'll just work my charm up to 11 and I'll be swimming in tips.” 

“Oh thank goodness,” Vaughn said with a relieved sigh. “I don't think I would've made it a whole month without logging on to Fringeworlds.” 

“What a tragedy,” Rhys chuckled as he stood up and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Anyway, I'm exhausted. See you in the morning.” 

As Rhys settled down in his own bed and began drifting off to sleep, he tried so hard to think of anything else besides work, but he just couldn't burn that image of Jack - well, Timothy - out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Augghh, yeah, I know this chapter probably isn't worth the length of time it took me to get it posted. But from here on out, I can finally take this thing in the direction I want to go. So sorry this chapter is kinda blah, but now I'll be getting to the fun stuff, so hopefully it won't take as long.
> 
> Oh and tbh I was iffy that Angel would ever call Jack "daddy," but I couldn't resist making Rhys freak out, heh.


	3. An Offer He Couldn't Refuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Rhys' financial situation grows more desperate, maybe stripping doesn't sound like such a bad idea after all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH I'm sorry sorry it took me so long to update this!! (Especially since I went and did that other drabble, whups). I'd just felt so drained and now that the pace in this fic is finally picking up, hopefully I won't drag my heels so much x.x

“I've got this, bro.”

Those were Rhys’ exact words when he promised to cover the water bill. Those were the words that haunted him, gnawing at the back of his mind as he started to strip down in the dingy strip club bathroom. 

As it turned out, Rhys did not “got this.” His tips were not as great as he expected, and between other expenses, like gas and food, he was unable to save up enough for the water bill by the time it was due. 

So there he stood, shirtless in front of the bathroom sink at work. He made sure to arrive especially early to avoid embarrassing himself in front of his coworkers. Wilhelm was already there to let him in, but the bouncer didn't seem to take any interest in the other employees’ personal business, so Rhys wasn't too concerned. 

This had been going on for about a week without anyone taking notice, but his luck finally ran out. Just as he was scrubbing under his arms, he heard the door to the men’s room swing open. Rhys assumed it would be Wilhelm, but as he looked up, he stood face-to-face with the club owner himself. 

“J-Jack! I mean, mister… uh… Sir!” He stammered, taken completely off guard as he scrambled to cover himself with his shirt. “What are you doing here?” 

“What am _I_ doing here?” Jack echoed. “You mean, here, in my club, that I own?” 

“I mean… It's just, you're here early! I wasn't expecting anyone. And don't you have your own private bathroom anyway?” 

“Again, questioning your boss. How about instead, you tell me what's up with the whore bath in my sink?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow at his flustered employee. 

“Wha--! No, no…” Rhys chuckled nervously as he fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. “I just… spilled something! Yeah, so I just needed to come in here and clean up!” 

Jack folded his arms over his chest as he listened with an unconvinced look on his face. “So, Wilhelm has been letting you in early so you can ‘spill something’ on yourself since, what was it, last week? Is that right?” 

“Yes?” Rhys hesitantly replied with a sheepish grin. But as Jack continued to stare him down, his shoulders slumped as he gave a heavy sigh. “Okay, fine. Money's been real tight lately, and our water got shut off. But I'm paying the bill tomorrow, I swear!” 

“Cool story,” Jack replied indifferently. “But I got a health inspector coming in tonight, and I don't need the bathroom looking like someone had a fight with the sink and lost.” 

Rhys glanced down at the small puddles that formed from the drops of water that fell to the floor while he was washing himself. “Oh, uh. Yeah, I'll clean it all up. Cleaner than when I found it!” 

“Glad to hear it.” Jack motioned for Rhys to follow him to a nearby maintenance closet. The club owner opened the door, unleashing a powerfully terrible odor that smelled like a mix of chemicals and mold. “Have at it.” 

With a cringe, Rhys grabbed at the mop and bucket before quickly retreating from the closet. He immediately regretted offering to clean the bathroom, but it was too late to go back on his word. Jack had already gone off to inspect other areas of the club, leaving Rhys to return to the bathroom all on his own. 

Mopping up his mess wasn't such a horrible task. It was the promise to make the restroom look _better_ that gave Rhys some trouble. The toilets were disgusting, lewd graffiti covered the walls, and a hole was cut out through one of the stall partitions. He wasn't entirely sure how strict the health regulations were, but a glory hole hardly seemed sanitary. Rhys found some duct tape to cover the hole, and continued doing his best to make the stalls at least look clean enough. 

Just as he was about to return the cleaning supplies to that horrifying closet, Rhys heard his name called from across the club. He looked up to see Jack waving him over to the private lapdance stalls. 

“Looks like some asshole thought it'd be fun to jerk off in here,” Jack grumbled as he started to walk off again. “Take care of it.” 

Rhys’ shoulders slumped as he gave his boss a defeated look. “Yes, sir…” he weakly replied as he hauled the cleaning supplies to the stall. 

After taking a few deep breaths, Rhys clenched his jaw and braced himself as he pulled back the curtain. It wasn't as big of a mess as he had feared, but the dry, sticky fluids on the wall and floor were definitely not pleasant. He sprayed the areas with sanitizer and stretched the mop over to clean the area, trying to stay as far away from it as he could. 

Jack returned a few minutes later, just as Rhys was finishing up. He gave the employee an amused grin as he looked over the newly cleaned stall. “Not bad, Rhysie. Maybe I should have hired you on as a janitor instead.” 

“I really do not want to do that again,” Rhys said with a heavy sigh. 

“All this, just ‘cause you didn't pay the water bill,” Jack taunted. 

Rhys frowned, trying so hard not to make a comment that would upset the club owner. 

Jack chuckled when he saw Rhys’ unamused expression. “Hey, don't give me that face. It's not my fault you didn't manage your bills responsibly.” 

“You could pay me more,” Rhys mumbled. 

“Sorry, I missed that. Were you saying, ‘Yes, Jack, thank you for hiring me so I'm not broke and homeless’?” 

At this point, the bartender was irritated enough to fold his arms over his chest and defiantly look Jack in the eye. “I _said_ I could use a raise.” 

For a moment, Jack was silent as he stared Rhys down, but the severe look on his face abruptly turned to a wide grin as the club owner began to howl with laughter. “Oh, you're serious! Wow. That's…” Jack couldn't finish his statement as the laughter continued. 

Rhys’ shoulders slumped and he awkwardly glanced to the side as he waited for his boss to finish mocking him. 

“You've been here, what, a few weeks?” Jack continued as the laughter finally died down. “I’ll admit, you've caught on quick, kiddo, but like hell I give any employee a raise that quickly. But I'll tell you what. That took some stones, asking for money. I like that. If you come in early from now on, do a little janitorial maintenance, that would get you extra hours.” 

Rhys’ nose crinkled in disgust at the suggestion. “Thanks, but I think I'll have to pass.” 

“Hey, you're the one who asked for more money.” A sly grin slowly spread over Jack's face. “Unless… What if I said I'll pay you nothing, _but_ you'll earn a whole hell of a lot of cash?” 

“What?!” Rhys’ eyes widened, immediately fearing the worst at the thought of Jack docking his pay. “But…! That doesn't make any sense.” 

“I'm talking about dancing, pumpkin.” Jack nodded to the stage. “Pay me 30 bucks each night, 50 on Saturdays, go up there and shake that ass of yours, and I know you'd be making…” He paused to shamelessly look Rhys up and down. “...At least 400 a day.” 

“A day?! That's more than I make in a week - tips included!” 

“You got the right stuff, sweetheart. Think about it.” Jack gave Rhys a wink as he turned towards his office. 

That was such a crazy idea, Rhys thought as he began to put away all the cleaning equipment. He never imagined he was attractive enough to earn any kind of money from dancing, but if a man like Jack really believed Rhys could make that much money in one night, then maybe it was worth a shot. 

But what about Angel, though? Rhys would feel too guilty abandoning her like that. Even still, money was money, and he might not be able to afford such consideration. 

In an attempt not to stress over the issue so early into his shift, Rhys focused on getting the bar ready before the club opened for the evening and managed to finish everything just as Angel arrived. 

“Early again,” she noted with a smile. “Looks like Jack picked the right guy to help me tend the bar.” 

Rhys felt a pang of guilt at that comment. Angel clearly appreciated the help, yet here he was, considering leaving her alone not that long after he was just hired. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he offered Angel a small grin in return. “Yeah, you know how it is. Still new, still trying to make a good impression…” 

“You should forget to pay your water bill more often,” she chuckled. 

“Oh come on,” Rhys groaned, leaning over the counter to bury his face in his hands. “Is there anyone here who doesn't know?” 

“I don't think Jack got around to telling any of the dancers. ...Not yet at least.” 

“That's great,” Rhys said with a heavy sigh, though he knew he shouldn't be so surprised. In his brief time at Hyperion, he noticed that Wilhelm was basically Jack's right-hand man. Of course he'd report to the owner that one of the employees had begun to show up early. Subtlety was obviously not one of Jack’s strong suits, so naturally he would tell other employees, especially Angel. 

At least none of the dancers indicated if they heard about Rhys’ water bill mishap. He honestly never had much time to interact with any of them during his shift. He was too busy serving customers, while the dancers spent time between performances freshening up in the dressing room. 

Thankfully, Angel didn't push the topic any further, and work kept Rhys busy the first few hours. The health inspector arrived fairly early in the evening, before the bulk of customers usually arrived, but while the inspector was there, Rhys was left alone to cover the bar while Angel showed him around. 

Once she was finished and returned to help with the customers, Rhys allowed his mind to wander back to Jack’s offer. His gaze lingered at the dancer on stage, one of the women this time. The DJ introduced her as “Felicity.” She wore her hair in a short blonde bob and tended to favor a nautical motif, wearing little else but a sailor’s hat. She carried herself so elegantly, despite the fact that the only thing covering her were pasties and a thong. 

The stage was already littered with money, and Rhys looked down to his own tip jar, which barely had anything this early in the night. It certainly looked like Jack wasn't exaggerating about how much money the dancers earn, but Rhys wondered if he could put on a decent performance while feeling so exposed like that. And what about a theme? Should he pick one for himself, like Felicity did? What would his routine even be? 

“Did you get that? Rhys?” Angel’s voice broke into his daydream. “Rhys!” 

Rhys’ eyelids fluttered as he jolted upright, looking towards his coworker. “Hm? What?” 

“I said the bachelor party just ordered two pitchers of beer,” she explained. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I'm fine,” he sighed as he reached for the pitchers. “It's just… The dancers make so much more money, don't they?” 

Angel took one of the pitchers, helping fill it with beer as she replied. “They don't have an hourly wage like we do, but… Generally, yes. Their tips are quite impressive. Why do you ask?” 

“I need money.” Rhys kept his eyes low, watching the the beer pour out of the tap. “Jack thinks I can earn a lot if I’m up on stage.” 

“Don't let him bully you if you're not comfortable dancing,” Angel softly replied. “You can tell him no.” 

“It's not that.” He shook his head. “I mean, maybe it would feel a little weird, but I've seen their routines plenty of times. I think I can do it. Maybe not _that_...” Rhys nodded towards Felicity, who was currently hanging from the pole, holding on with nothing but her legs. “But I think I can handle the basics.” 

“If that's really what you want, then why not give it a shot?” 

“But what about you?” Rhys gave Angel a concerned frown. “You _just_ got some extra help behind the bar, and I'm already thinking about leaving you alone again.” 

“I handled myself just fine before you were hired.” She offered a soft smile. “Jack scares away lots of new hires, so trust me. I'll be fine. Now get these pitchers to the party.” 

Rhys did as he was told and served the beer. The group barely noticed him; all eyes were glued to the stage. A group this big should be expected to leave a decent tip, but Rhys was already sure all their cash was going to end up on the stage, rather than the tip jar. 

This should have been an easy decision by now, but somehow, Angel’s support didn't help the way Rhys hoped it would. Perhaps he subconsciously hoped she would talk him out of dancing, so he could easily continue using Angel as an excuse. But now, this decision was entirely on his own shoulders. Vaughn wouldn't approve, Rhys was sure of it, but earning $400 cash each night sounded too tempting. 

By the time his shift was over, Rhys finally came to a decision. He burst into Jack’s office after a half-assed knock on the door and excitedly announced, “I'm in! I'll be a dancer.” 

As Jack looked up from his paperwork, the expression on his face shifted from mild irritation to a pleased smirk. “I knew you'd come around.” 

“One condition, though. You need to find a replacement to help Angel.” 

Jack responded with an amused chuckle. “You really think you're in a position to give _me_ an ultimatum?” 

“You care about her, don't you?” 

Glaring at Rhys, Jack slowly stood from his chair. “Think very carefully about your next words.” 

The bartender’s eyes widened in fear, not having intended to cross any sort of line. “I just mean that, you know, work is gonna be harder for her alone, so it would just be nice to know she'll be okay, if I leave the bar.” 

After a long pause, Jack finally spoke again, “My Angel’s a lot tougher than you think. Going through applications sucks, and I don't wanna do it.” Rhys slumped, frowning in disappointment, but Jack continued, “So I'll tell you what. The two of you can be in charge of finding a new bartender.” 

“Seriously?!” Rhys perked up. “That-- That's really great, sir, thank you!” 

“Wait til you sift through all the applicants before you thank me. There's some real winners out there.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Finish out the week, and I'll introduce you to the rest of the gang on Sunday. Have your audition ready.” 

“I will, sir!” Rhys beamed as he gave his boss a little wave. “Thanks again!” 

As Jack sat back down in his chair, he swatted a hand towards the door, shooing his employee out of the office. Rhys left without wasting another moment and hurried back to tell Angel the news.


	4. Pour Some Sugar On Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys finally begins the transition from bartender to a dancer!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOLD YA the next one shouldn't take so long. I keep my promises. And also got really bored at work. But anyway. Here's what I think a lot of people have been waiting for, so yeah! Hope you enjoy!

In the days leading up to the weekend, Rhys finally managed to get the water turned back on in his apartment, but he still continued to meet with Angel early before their shifts started. They only had a few days to find a new bartender and didn't want to waste any time.

Whenever they finished interviewing potential candidates for the day, Rhys spent the rest of his time practicing on stage until the bar opened. Angel continued to be so supportive and helpful, giving him tips and feedback while he practiced. She never had been a dancer, but after working in the club for so long, she at least knew what a good routine was supposed to look like. 

By the time Rhys’ audition day arrived, he and Angel found an excellent replacement bartender - a cheerful young woman named Janey Springs. She was very personable, and they were sure she'd win over plenty of tips for the bar. After they spent a moment introducing Janey to Hyperion, Angel walked with Rhys back to the dressing room to help with the final preparations for his audition. 

He had never been back there before, even with his little dance practices over the last few days, but it looked just about how he expected. There was a line of vanity tables lining the wall, each with the same mirror lined with small light bulbs. Each dresser had various bits of makeup and underwear carelessly left out, and some even had pictures of friends and family attached to the mirror. 

Aside from the vanities, there were plenty of clothing racks with different sexy costumes. Rhys easily spotted the little sailor suit that Felicity favored, though it never stayed on her body for long. There was practically every outfit Rhys could think of on the racks - sexy army fatigues, feather boas, a skimpy police costume… 

“Hey what about this?!” Rhys exclaimed as he grabbed at a cowboy hat that he found abandoned behind a pile of clothes. “I've never seen any of the dancers do a cowboy thing before. Maybe--” 

“I don't think so,” Angel quickly replied before Rhys could continue. 

“Why not?” Rhys frowned in disappointment. “It could be a whole thing, like with those pants that show off your butt…” 

“No one has worn that since… Nevermind. Just trust me - it’s not a good idea,” she said firmly. 

There had to be something more to this. The way Angel reacted to the cowboy hat seemed more serious than a simple fashion faux pas, but Rhys didn't push, since she didn't seem very inclined to share any details. It seemed a bit odd, but he reminded himself that he worked in a club where the owner hired a dancer to look like him. That, alone, established “bizarre” as the norm for Hyperion. 

“Why don't you try this one?” Angel suggested as she held up a white blouse with a red and black plaid skirt. 

“A schoolgirl costume?” Rhys pouted. “I never see the other guys wear skirts. How come I have to?” 

“That's exactly why you should. Ever since Timothy got the surgery, no one has been able to work the whole ‘vulnerable’ act,” she explained. “Even our women come off as tough and confident. We're missing that whole cute and innocent look. I think you can pull it off.” 

“You think I'm cute?” Rhys grinned. 

Angel just rolled her eyes and pushed the clothes into his arms. “Wear these underneath,” she said as she grabbed a pair of pink frilly panties. 

“You've got to be kidding,” Rhys pouted, but Angel kept digging through the accessories. 

“You want to impress Jack, right?” She picked up a pair of white thigh high stockings along with tall black pumps. “You’ll need to show off your legs.” 

If Angel really believed that's what would work, Rhys decided he'd have to just go along with it. Who else but Jack’s girlfriend would know the sort of things that he was into? 

Once Angel had the outfit picked out, she left the dressing room to give Rhys some privacy. Wearing these skimpy clothes felt about as awkward as Rhys thought it would be, but when he finally changed clothes and emerged from the dressing room, Angel looked quite pleased with her creation. 

“I feel ridiculous,” Rhys sighed. 

“No, it's perfect. Just…” She paused and reached forward to unbutton the bottom of Rhys’ shirt and tied the ends together to completely expose his midriff. “There. Jack will love this.” 

“Yes he _does_ ,” the club owner’s voice piped in as he entered the club, walking towards Rhys. Jack removed the sunglasses he had been wearing and hooked them on the collar of his shirt to get a better look at his aspiring new dancer. He clapped a hand on Angel’s shoulder, congratulating her handiwork. “No one knows me like my baby girl. Ain't that right, sweetheart?” 

Angel looked mildly uncomfortable and flinched slightly at Jack's touch, but she remained still and forced a gentle smile at Rhys. “Good luck, though I don't think you'll need it.” 

With Jack's full attention shifted to Rhys, Angel returned to the bar, where Janey was waiting patiently, chatting excitedly with one of the dancers who showed up a little early today. It was one of the women - pretty, but always seemed to have a serious expression on her face. This had to be the first time Rhys actually saw her smiling. 

“Athena!” Jack called over to the bar. The dancer looked up towards the club owner with a frown. “While you're here early, why don't you have a seat and give the new kid some pointers?” 

Athena sighed in disinterest, but did as she was told anyway, joining the two men near the stage. 

“All right, cupcake,” Jack smirked at Rhys. “Get your ass up there and show us what you got.” 

Rhys swallowed thickly as he turned towards the stairs leading up to the stage. During his practice sessions, he had been dancing in heels to get used to the feeling, but now that it was audition time, his legs suddenly felt a bit wobbly. Performing for Jack alone was nerve-wracking, but now Rhys had a bigger audience than expected, including one of the veteran dancers. He'd hate to embarrass himself in front of everybody, but he quickly realized that being a dancer meant he'd soon have much bigger audiences, so there was no use in getting anxious now. 

Taking a deep breath, he stood up on the stage and gave Jack a nod. “I'm ready.” 

The owner waved towards the DJ booth and a familiar tune began to play. 

_Love is like a bomb a bomb a bomb…_

Rhys rested a hand on his hip as he gave Jack a frown. “You're kidding me, right?” 

“Hey, you didn't say you had your own song prepared, so it's my pick.” 

“Could you _be_ more cliché?” 

Jack impatiently waved an arm towards the stage. “You want this job or not?” 

Rhys wasn't about to lose this opportunity before he could even get his shirt off, so he rolled his eyes and went along with it. The smooth guitar riffs made it easy for him to find a rhythm swaying his hips. He leaned back against the pole, lightly holding on with one hand for support as he slowly crouched down, knees spread apart to give Jack a little peek at his underwear. On his way back up, he made sure to arch his back and push out his backside, just like Angel told him to. Athena looked unimpressed, however, Jack already seemed very interested. 

As Rhys continued to dance, he started unfastening the buttons on his shirt. The first one easily came undone using just one hand, but he fumbled with the second one for a moment, forcing him to use two hands to finish removing the rest of the garment. Aside from that little hitch, he felt good about his dance so far. 

By the time the first chorus ended and Rhys heard the line, _”I’m hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet,”_ he felt enough confidence to look Jack in the eye while seductively running his tongue over his fingers. 

Big mistake. His skin tasted like brass and grease from touching the pole, but it was too late to take it back. Pulling his hand away so suddenly would look too awkward, so Rhys did his best to not look completely disgusted as he continued his performance. 

Before long, Rhys was wearing nothing but stockings, heels, and tiny panties. Athena still looked bored, but Jack’s reaction was all that mattered. He seemed to practically devour Rhys with his eyes, which only inspired more confidence in the dancer to give a great, sexy performance. 

When the song finally came to an end, he glanced towards the bar, where Angel and Janey gave him big grins and four thumbs up. Rhys looked back to his boss, who eyed him with a little smirk. 

“Not bad, kiddo. I knew you had it in you. How about it?” Jack nudged Athena for her opinion. 

“Amateur,” she responded with a shrug. “But I've seen worse.” 

“Don't mind her,” Jack said with a casual wave as he stood up from his seat. “She just wishes you had a nice rack.” 

Athena rolled her eyes as she also pulled herself to her feet. “I'll be in the dressing room if you need me.” 

The club owner didn't bother to stop her and waved for Rhys to come down from the stage. “Time for part two of the audition. Oh, and don't bother putting those clothes back on.” 

Rhys left the discarded items on the stage and followed Jack into his office. Angel assured him that he wouldn't be required to perform any “favors” during the interview, but the way Jack looked at him as he sat behind the desk, Rhys didn't exactly feel very confident in Angel's promise. 

Jack swiveled his chair away from the desk to give Rhys plenty of space and patted his leg. “Nail the lapdance, and you're in.” 

Somehow, Rhys felt so much more self-conscious here in the privacy of this little office, compared to being on stage with an audience. He thought this part would be easy, but he was visibly tense as he approached his boss. 

“Relax, sweetheart. I'm not gonna bite. Unless, that's what you want.” Jack chuckled softly, running a tongue over his lip. 

Rhys just gave a soft huff as he settled down between his boss’ knees and began by slowly pulling himself up, just inches away from Jack’s body. He threw one leg over Jack's thigh and rolled his hips down towards the other man, barely making contact. 

“You smell fantastic,” Jack spoke softly, near Rhys’ ear. 

“Um. Thanks?” Rhys anxiously bit his lip as he moved his other leg over Jack's, nearly seated in his lap now. 

“Might wanna come up with a better line for the regulars,” he chuckled. 

A soft blush spread over Rhys’ cheeks as he glanced at nothing in particular over Jack’s shoulder. He continued rocking his hips down towards his boss’ lap for a moment, then turned around to show off his backside, still keeping close. 

“Shit, Rhysie, this is such a good look on you. The regulars are gonna eat up this ‘shy’ routine.” 

The dancer glanced over his shoulder with a frown. These comments were starting to worry Rhys. It was good that the boss seemed to approve, but the compliments were starting to sound a bit too forward. Could Angel have been wrong, after all? Was Jack expecting a little something extra from Rhys? 

“Just because I'll be dancing doesn't mean I'm gonna, you know, _do_ things for you.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Actually, I don't know. Care to elaborate?” 

“This lap dance is just an audition, okay? I'm not doing you any _favors._ ” 

There was a brief pause before Jack burst out into laughter. “Seriously, kiddo? What kind of guy do you think I am, taking advantage of my employees?” 

Rhys froze, slowly moving upright to look at Jack with a frown. “But…! The way you've been looking at me, and those comments you're making…” 

“What should I say instead? That you're crap at dancing? You're gonna be dealing with a lot of creeps out there, so better get used to this stuff,” Jack explained. “Besides, sorry to crush your little dream, but I actually have a hands-off policy with my employees.” 

“Wait… huh?” Rhys raised an eyebrow, not sure if he understood correctly. 

“I fooled around with one of the dancers before. Let's just say it ended badly, but lucky for you, I've got the open space on my roster. But still, getting involved with an employee is a mistake I won't be making again.” 

“But aren’t you and Angel…?” 

Jack knit his eyebrows together as he worked out exactly what Rhys was implying. “Me and…? Hang on - you think Angel and I are, what, dating?” 

“Well, aren't you?” Rhys grinned sheepishly with a little shrug. 

“Holy shit, kiddo.” Jack doubled over, laughing even harder than before. “Angel is my _daughter,_ dumbass!” 

Rhys’ eyes widened, brows practically raised to his forehead at this new bit of information. “Your what?!” 

“I thought it was obvious! What did you think, all those times she called me--” He cut himself off with more laughter. “You thought I had a daddy kink, didn't you?!” 

Rhys’ face turned bright red as he awkwardly stood before Jack, unable to do anything besides take his mockery. It all made so much more sense, now that he thought about it - the way Jack was so protective of her, and the way he called her his “baby girl,” because she literally was his child. Rhys couldn't believe he hadn't worked it out sooner. 

“You've got one sick, twisted mind, pumpkin,” Jack sighed as the laughter wound down. “I think you'll fit in just great. Congrats, you're on.” 

The dancer paused for a moment to process that information. He thought for sure Jack would laugh him out of the club for making such a fool of himself. “Really?!” Rhys’ face lit up as he reached to awkwardly shake Jack’s hand a bit too vigorously. “Thanks a _ton_ , wow, I thought I really blew it…” 

“You will, if you don't hurry up and get out of my office,” Jack flatly replied. “Better get ready. The club opens in ten minutes.” 

“Oh! Right, of course. Thanks!” Without wasting another moment, Rhys hurried out of the office to prepare for his first real performance.


	5. First Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys meets the other dancers and begins his first day of work

By the time Rhys was finished with his audition, the rest of the dancers had arrived for their shift and were already preparing themselves in the dressing room. Instinctively, he felt as though he ought to cover up a bit more if he was going to formally meet these people for the first time, but he reminded himself that they would all be nearly naked on stage soon, so there was no point in getting dressed again.

As Rhys made his way to the back, Jack accompanied his new dancer to officially introduce him to the rest of the gang. When Rhys arrived, everyone was already stripped down to their underwear and preparing makeup and outfits for their first performances of the evening. 

“Everybody!” Jack called, drawing the dancers’ attention. “I think you all remember Rhys from behind the bar. He's decided to fill that empty dancer slot on the roster, so make him feel welcome, give him a hand - or don't, actually, I don't really care.” 

He turned to Rhys and continued, gesturing to each dancer as he introduced them. “You already met Athena, and I know you're already a big fan of Timothy over there.” Rhys’ face turned a little red, causing Jack to smirk widely in response. “And over here's Felicity, Maya… and this dumb-looking asshole.” Jack frowned as he got to the last dancer, a well-built man with a chiseled jaw, nearly flawless, except for a scar on his chin. 

“That's it. Knock ‘em dead, kiddo.” Jack clapped Rhys on the back, nearly knocking him over, then left him alone with his new co-workers. 

The “dumb-looking asshole” was the first one to approach Rhys. He gave a charming smile and offered a handshake, which Rhys accepted. “Name’s Axton.” He firmly gripped the new dancer’s hand and continued in a lower tone, “Jack's just pissed ‘cause lately I’ve been earning more than Tim.” 

Axton didn't seem bothered by the fact that he had displeased the owner, though. He actually looked proud of the fact. As for himself, Rhys didn't think twice about the possibility that he'd earn more than Timothy, or any of these dancers. At least, not for a while. There was still a lot he needed to learn. 

“Good to meet you. Like, in person, I mean,” Rhys said with an awkward grin. “I've seen all of you on stage, but never got the chance to say hi. So, uh, anything I should know before my first show?” 

“Oil,” was Axton’s simple reply. He reached for a dark-colored bottle on a nearby vanity and poured some liquid into his hand. “Shine these babies right up,” he continued, rubbing the liquid over his abs. “The ladies go crazy for it.” 

“I think it just makes you look greasy,” Maya flatly replied as she walked past the men to get to the clothing rack. 

“She's just saying that ‘cause she doesn't like anyone,” Axton whispered to Rhys. 

Maya just rolled her eyes as she looked through the clothes. Apparently, Axton was really bad at whispering. “I like people just fine. I just don't want to have sex with them.” 

Rhys curiously raised an eyebrow. “How's that work? You know, with this job, and all…” 

She paused to look up at Rhys with a pointed glare. “It works because we _don't have sex._ ” After a brief pause, her expression softened with a sigh. “It's all just a performance out there. Just give ‘em a show, and if anyone tries to put their hands on you, punch them in the throat. I mean, call for Wilhelm.” 

“Thanks,” Rhys replied with an apologetic grin. He might have been new to this line of work, but he'd been with the club long enough that he should have known better than to ask such a stupid question. 

As he started looking for an outfit for his own performance, the cowboy hat caught Rhys’ eye once again. It seemed like the perfect costume for this sort of thing, yet everyone avoided it and Angel refused to talk about it. He couldn't help but feel curious as to why, but maybe one of the dancers would tell him. Axton didn't seem too afraid of Jack, so maybe he'd give up some information. 

“Hey, Axton…” Rhys spoke as he returned to his co-worker. “What's the deal with that cowboy hat? I thought it'd be cool to wear it, you know, like a whole outfit thing, but Angel was _really_ against it.” 

“Oh that? It was Nisha’s,” Axton casually replied. “Jack's old girlfriend. She left to work at Moxxi’s.” 

That was it? It was such a simple answer, but Angel seemed so touchy about it. 

“Wait a sec, Jack said he has a ‘hands-off’ policy with the dancers.” 

“Guess she's the reason why,” Axton shrugged. “It's a good rule of thumb - don't get laid where you get paid. It gets messy. You have your fights, it carries over to the workplace, and now Jack's down one hell of a good dancer. Stabbed in the back and lost her to the competition.” He paused for a moment, then quickly added, “Maybe don't go around telling everyone you know about that. Jack isn't exactly open about his personal business.” 

Of course, Rhys knew better than to say anything to Jack about it. He understood a little better now, why that cowboy hat might be a touchy subject. That sort of a betrayal was sure to leave some bad blood with the club owner, and wearing that costume would only be a sore reminder of what happened. 

Curiosity satisfied, Rhys went back to looking through the clothes. He wasn't sure if a skirt would be the right way to go for the first day, since he didn't know how well that sort of thing would be received by the crowd. Maybe Jack was into it, but what about the audience? 

Rhys was so lost in concentration, he was startled when a familiar voice spoke up over his shoulder, “Hey.” 

He nearly jumped as he quickly spun around. “Yes, s- sir…?” In the span of just two words, his voice when from a startled to a more confused tone. It sounded like his boss had called to him, but once Rhys actually saw the man standing before him wearing the tightest-fitting police uniform, he quickly realized that this wasn't Jack, after all. “Oh, sorry. It's Timothy, right?” 

“Jack said you like watching me dance,” Tim said with a little grin. 

“Wha-- no, it's not like that!” Rhys stammered. “I mean, yeah, you're pretty good, but it's not like I'm _staring_ or anything. I was just a little off-guard the first time, since y’know. You look just like him.” 

Timothy chuckled softly and gave Rhys a warm smile. “Don't worry, I know what you mean. Jack does this all the time, where he acts like nobody can take their eyes off me. It's an ego thing.” 

“Jack has an ego?” Rhys joked in a fake surprised tone. 

Timothy laughed again in response. Rhys wasn't sure what he expected when he met Tim, but he was surprised by how nice he was. Obviously, he knew this wasn't Jack, but still, Rhys was a little taken aback by how different the two men were, aside from appearances. Though, now that he was this close, Rhys noticed some light freckles peppered across Timothy's nose and cheeks that were entirely absent on Jack's face. It seemed to be the only way to tell the two of them apart, at least without having to listen to them talk. 

“Glad to have you on board, Rhys. If you need help with anything, just ask.” 

“Actually, I was just wondering what kind of outfit I should wear,” he replied. “I need to make a good first impression, right?” 

After a few moments of discussing ideas, they decided on a gray waistcoat that was a bit small for Rhys, but perfect for the job. Instead of wearing it along with a suit, as most people do, he wore it over his bare skin, along with a hot red tie. On his bottom half, he wore snug black slacks with pinstripes, to help accentuate his long legs. Underneath, he wore simple briefs, but at the very bottom layer, he slipped on a pair of tight, red booty shorts. 

“Looks great. Almost perfect!” Timothy encouraged. “Just one last thing - the lighting out there can really make you look all washed out, so you might wanna consider learning how to do your makeup.” Rhys pouted, but before he could protest, Timothy continued, “I'm not saying you need to get all dolled up. Just do enough so you don't look like a corpse out there. You can borrow mine, for now.” 

Tim guided him to one of the vanity sets and sat him down on the stool. From what Rhys had gathered, Timothy had been doing this for a while now, so he trusted that his co-worker wouldn't make him look too ridiculous. As he began work on Rhys’ face, Tim explained how the lighting affects a dancer’s appearance and gave a quick tutorial on contouring the face, but it was too much for Rhys to remember all at once, and even then, he was sure it would take a few times practicing until he could do it as well as the more experienced performers. 

By the time they had finished, they were the only ones left in the dressing room. The other dancers had already gone out into the club to either perform or sell lapdances to the growing crowd. However, Felicity soon returned, beckoning for Rhys to come out onto the floor. 

“It's your turn, dear,” she announced with a soft smile. “The audience is warmed up and ready for you.” 

Timothy gave Rhys a big grin and a thumbs up. “Go knock ‘em dead.” 

After taking a deep breath, Rhys finally left the dressing room and walked towards the stage, mentally psyching himself up. He could do this. Jack wouldn't have given him the position otherwise, he reminded himself. 

The DJ spoke into a microphone just as Rhys approached the stage, “Making his debut tonight, you've seen him mixing your drinks, and now you can watch him undress! Introducing our newest dancer - Rhys!” 

Was that really necessary? The announcement caused his cheeks to heat up, but hopefully no one would notice the blush beneath the layers of foundation he was wearing. 

The music started up as Rhys took his place on stage. This time, it was a more modern song you'd hear in an average club, instead of an overused, stereotypical stripper song. 

The room was darker, now that Hyperion was open for business, and with all the lights shining on Rhys, he could barely see the whole audience, anyway. The limited vision actually helped him to relax as he began his dance. 

Just as he finished unbuttoning his waistcoat, exposing his torso, Rhys could already see dollar bills sliding to the edge of the stage. He had hardly even done anything yet, and he was already getting tips! Rhys knelt by the money at the edge of the stage, knees wide apart as he smiled at the man who placed it there. He slid the waistcoat off his shoulders and reached for the money, slowly sliding his hand up his thigh before securing the bills in the waistband of his underwear. 

As he continued undressing, Rhys made sure to visit the customers who left him money on the stage. He even bent over nice and slowly, giving the audience a great view of his backside as he removed his pants. 

Once Rhys was down to nothing but the tiny shorts and a necktie, he spent more time dancing on the pole. Even if he couldn't do any of the fancy tricks yet, he still did his best to look as sexy as possible for the audience. 

As the song was coming to an end, Rhys looked out into the audience and noticed Jack had been watching him. It made sense that he'd want to make sure his new dancer didn't completely screw up on his first night, but there was an odd intensity to Jack's gaze. It wasn't like the usual self-satisfied grin he wore any time he watched Timothy perform. It was more focused than that, and something Rhys couldn't quite place. 

Unusual as it might have been, the dancer didn't care too much about what it meant, since the money littering the stage was enough of a confirmation that he did well. Rhys quickly collected the rest of his money and exited the stage, passing Timothy along the way. 

“So how was it?” Tim asked. 

“You tell me.” Rhys beamed as he held up the wads of cash. 

“Congrats on your first performance! Now let's see if you can sell a lapdance.” Timothy gave him an encouraging grin as he turned to take his place on the stage. 

Rhys quickly returned to the dressing room to count out his first round of tips. In just one dance, he already made $50, which was so much more than he could make in tips as a bartender. If he did well with lapdances, in addition to the money from his stage performances, Rhys expected to take home an impressive amount of cash that night. 

As it turned out, the customers of the evening were all very eager to get the attention of Hyperion's fresh new dancer. Rhys felt only a little awkward as he walked with the first customer into a private booth at the back of the club, but he remembered what Maya told him - this is just a performance. And if anyone tried to touch him, call for Wilhelm. 

Thankfully, he didn't run into any belligerent customers on his first night. Just like he was easing into his new role, it seemed his audience was also getting a feel for him as well. 

But based on the total amount of tips he took home that evening, the audience did not seem disappointed in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wagh, I'm not used to working with such a wide range of characters. My fics usually just center around a small few, so I hope I don't screw it up with too much going on, but woooo, yeah! @.@


	6. Just Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys is taken off guard when Jack chooses him to entertain important customers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update already?! Well, I'm unemployed and have no internet, so not much to do but writs fic on my phone! And I've had this scene in mind for a while now, so I was looking forward to writing it, hehe

After just a few days working as an exotic dancer, Rhys quickly saw that Jack wasn't lying about how much money he'd be making. The customers loved how Rhys gave off a more vulnerable air than the other dancers, and the tiny skirts were especially a great hit.

Even with as well as he had been doing, Rhys was still taken by surprise when Jack approached him to take care of certain VIP customers. “Ever hear of the Hammerlock family? These guys are disgustingly rich - I mean, not as rich as me, but trust me. We want their business, so don't screw it up.” 

“Are you sure you want me, if it's so important?” Rhys skeptically raised an eyebrow at his boss. “Maybe you should send one of the other dancers. Athena can do all those cool tricks on the pole, but me? I'm still new.” 

“Not a chance, kiddo. They want you, specifically,” Jack explained. “So hurry up, don't keep ‘em waiting.” 

Seeing that there was no arguing this, Rhys did as he was told and quickly made his way to one of the large booths with a pole installed at the small, circular table. He should have felt flattered that he was doing well enough to be requested by such important customers. It was a great opportunity for him, but he still felt like one of the more veteran dancers would do better. 

These booths were usually reserved for larger parties, but as Rhys approached, he only saw a man and a woman seated at the table, sipping what appeared to be champagne. 

“Hey there,” he greeted the customers with a smile, hand on his hip. “Name’s Rhys. I'm really looking forward to dancing for you tonight.” 

“Then get on with it, darling,” the woman spoke, barely sparing him a glass. “We're paying you for a show, not to chat.” 

“Come now, Aurelia,” the man chimed in. “The boy is only being friendly. You could learn a thing or two from him.” 

Oh, good. This was already extremely awkward, and Rhys hadn't even begun to dance yet. This woman, Aurelia, seemed like the typical, entitled rich brat, which worried Rhys that he might not get tipped as well as he'd hoped. The man, however, seemed much friendlier, at least. 

But Aurelia did have a point - Rhys was getting paid to dance, so he didn't waste any more time as he climbed up on the tabletop and began dancing along with the music. 

Rhys went through his usual set of moves, which normally earned him decent tips on the main stage, but with these two, he had no idea how well he was doing. Aurelia seemed disinterested by everything, while the man looked irritated just by her presence alone. 

Finally, Aurelia spoke up to acknowledge the man who had been dancing on their table, though it wasn't as encouraging as Rhys had hoped. “He’s a bit scrawny, wouldn't you say so, Alistair?” 

“Nothing is ever good enough for you, harpy!” Alistair shot back. “Sure, he isn't as built as Axton, but he's got quite a nice backside.” 

“Dear brother, you've always had such awful taste.” 

Rhys tried his best to just ignore her and keep dancing. Happy customers were always important, and Jack emphasized that the Hammerlocks _must_ be made happy. However, it seemed nothing he did could please Aurelia anyway, so Rhys gave in and finally spoke up. “I'm sorry, have I done something to upset you?” 

“It's what you haven't done, dear,” Aurelia replied as she reached up to slip a $50 bill into Rhys’ waistband. “Here, go buy yourself a nice steak and put some meat on those bones, why don't you?” 

The tip took Rhys a little off guard, and he did greatly appreciate it, but this woman’s attitude was still so confusing to him. “I don't understand. Jack said you specifically asked for me.” 

“Is that what he said?” Aurelia giggled in amusement. 

Rhys pouted at her laughter, folding his arms over his chest. “I don't get it. Why's that so funny?” 

“Actually,” Alistair replied, “we requested his most attractive male dancer, so Jack chose you, it seems.” 

Rhys froze as he let that information sink in, cheeks turning so brightly red that it could be seen through the foundation he was wearing. Given a vague request like that, the dancer would have been certain that Jack would have chosen Timothy. But as it turned out, the club owner picked Rhys instead. 

_Jack thinks I’m attractive._ The words repeated themselves over and over in his head. The thought gave Rhys a surge of pride, along with an odd, tight feeling in his gut. 

He tried to convince himself that this didn't mean anything. It was just good business. A customer made a request, and Jack did what he thought would be best for the club. That's all this was - just business. It was no use getting flustered over a man like that, anyway. Even if Jack wasn't a narcissistic asshole, he was still Rhys’ boss with a very clear “hands off” policy. 

But still, he couldn't shake the excitement he felt upon learning that Jack thought Rhys was the most attractive dancer. 

“You--! Oh, what was his name? Ricky!” Aurelia’s voice broke Rhys’ daze. “Ricky, darling, we're paying for a dancer, not a statue.” 

Rhys couldn't be entirely mad at her attitude this time. Alistair’s comment really shouldn't have distracted him as much as it did. The dancer offered a quick apology and went back to grinding on the pole even more enthusiastically than before. 

Not long after, Jack left his office and approached the Hammerlocks’ table, invited himself to a seat at the booth. Rhys’ heart pounded nervously as he danced, forcing his gaze up and away from the people seated around the table, but that didn't mean he couldn't hear what they were saying. 

“Aurelia, long time no see!” Jack loudly addressed his guests. “This your brother? Glad to have you here. Need a refill on that champagne yet?” 

The Hammerlocks declined, but out of the corner of his eye, Rhys noticed Jack wave towards the bar to bring more drinks. 

“So how d’you like my boy?” Jack continued, as if Rhys wasn't right there, dancing in front of them. “Legs for days, am I right?” 

“He is… adequate,” Aurelia replied. 

Alistair scoffed. “He's perfectly fine. A little green, perhaps, but very easy on the eyes, I will admit.” 

Rhys could practically feel the weight of their gazes as they watched him, evaluating his every move. Being on stage, he was used to the idea that people would stare at him, but not like this. These were much more judgemental stares, and to make things even more unnerving, they kept talking about Rhys as if he wasn't even there! Still, he did his best to remain professional and keep dancing. 

“Ever seen a stripper that still blushes?” Jack continued. “Look, see, there it is.” 

Even without Jack pointing out the obvious, Rhys could feel the blood rushing to his face as he listened to the others talking about him. 

“Oh yeah,” Jack continued, “this one's a real keeper.” 

Before any of them could pass further judgement on the dancer, Angel thankfully interrupted their relentless criticisms. She gave Rhys a friendly wave, and he gave an uneasy smile back before she began pouring champagne for their customers. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jack said as Angel took her leave. Once she left, he finally scooted out of the booth. “This one's on the house. Enjoy the show.” 

After Jack left the area and retreated back into his office, Alistair spoke up again, “Dear heavens, does that man ever stop talking? I dare say, he's even more self-absorbed than you are.” 

Rhys had to turn away to hide a chuckle. It was a huge relief that the Hammerlocks’ criticism had shifted to someone else, for the moment, and he didn't disagree. 

“Now, Alistair, do not criticize the man who is giving us free champagne.” 

It seemed that no matter the topic, the two of them couldn't agree on a single thing. Rhys had no idea why two siblings like that would bother going out anywhere together, let alone a strip club, of all places. But in the end, after they left and Rhys counted his tips, the judgemental comments and awkward bickering were absolutely worth the money. 

But there was no amount of money that could make Rhys forget how Jack specifically chose him to perform for the Hammerlocks. He tried to push it to the back of his mind, but by the end of the night, Rhys still couldn't let it go. 

After Hyperion closed and he changed back into his street clothes, Rhys made his way to Jack's office and knocked on the door. He waited for his boss to call him in, then carefully stepped inside. 

Jack looked up from the piles of money he had been counting and raised an eyebrow at Rhys. “Problem?” 

“No! No problem, I just…” 

“Just, what? Looking for a little chat? I'm busy, so if there's no problem, get lost.” 

Before Jack could return his focus on the money, Rhys quickly blurted out, “Why did you pick me to dance for the Hammerlocks?” 

The club owner frowned, raising an eyebrow at Rhys. “Seriously? That's what's so important, you had to come in here and make me lose count?” 

“I--” The dancer began to reply, but was immediately cut off again. 

“Do you know what time it is?” Jack continued, getting out of his seat to walk towards Rhys, causing the dancer to flinch back against the closed door. “It's ass o’clock late. I'd love to go home to my gigantic penthouse and maybe get a few hours of sleep, but some smart-ass stripper decided to come in here and question how I run my own damn business.” 

By the time Jack finished, Rhys was pressed as much against the door as possible, only inches away from Jack’s face. 

“No-- no, sir! It's just… Their request was really vague, and-- And I just thought maybe you'd send Timothy instead?” 

There was a moment of tense silence as Jack continued to stare Rhys down with an angry glare, but suddenly the owner pulled away, bursting out into laughter. “Oh, you should see your face, kiddo, that's great! You look like you're about to piss yourself, holy shit!” 

Rhys pouted, eyes shifting to the floor, but he still remained frozen in place. He hadn't realized until Jack pulled away that his heart had been furiously pounding in his chest. Of course, it made sense to feel nervous around such an intimidating man, but Rhys wasn't sure it was only nerves making his gut twist in knots. 

“I just want to know why…” He took a deep breath, speaking slowly as he carefully worded his quest. “What makes you think I'm the best-looking dancer?” 

“You don't think you're hot?” Jack leaned back against the front of his desk with a sigh, winding down from his laughter. 

“I mean, you picked me over Timothy, even.” 

Jack gave Rhys an amused smirk. “You keep mentioning him. What are you trying to say? You think my body double’s hot?” 

“N-no, that's not--” 

“Of course he is. He looks like me,” the club owner continued. “But I can't have you getting too attached, Rhysie. Remember, I don't get involved with employees, so whatever this is, better squash it now.” 

“You know what, forget it,” Rhys snapped as he quickly turned to leave. 

It was a stupid idea to ask Jack about this. Of course the man managed to make it all about _him._ Rhys couldn't believe he let himself think there was a chance that Jack might be attracted to him. After that encounter in his office, though, the club owner made it very clear that he strictly had just a business interest in Rhys. 

The idea that Jack saw him as more than just a good worker shouldn't have even been a thought that crossed the dancer’s mind in the first place. Rhys reminded himself that he had more sense than this. He knew that Jack wasn't the type of person he should want to be involved with, anyway. But still, Rhys couldn't shake that nagging feeling of crushing disappointment.


	7. Sway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is really bad at following his own rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHER UPDATE, well that's what happens when I'm unemployed and have nothing to do but sit around the house bored all day. This one ended up shorter than I expected, but I feel like a lot happens anyway? But yeah! You'll see. Enjoy!

After that awkward conversation in Jack’s office, Rhys had planned to avoid his boss as much as possible for a few days. Maybe if he kept his distance, Jack would forget his theory that the dancer had a secret infatuation with him. Even more importantly, Rhys hoped to distract himself from the fact that he _was_ actually starting to feel an odd attraction for his boss.

This plan, however, was an instant failure. Just as he was getting ready in the dressing room with his co-workers, the club owner swept in and immediately drew attention to himself. 

“Alright, listen up, kiddos. We’re trying out something new today,” he announced. Once everyone paused and turned their attention towards him, Jack continued, “Couples dances. You’re all gonna pair up and do a performance together.” 

Rhys looked up, a bit alarmed by this new development. The other dancers, however, seemed indifferent and unfazed by their boss’ sudden whim. 

“Axton, you’re with Felicity. Athena and Maya can go together, aaand…” He gave a fake, thoughtful pause, then added, “Guess that leaves Rhysie with TimTams.” Jack smirked deviously at Rhys as he finished that sentence. 

That bastard. He was doing this on purpose, Rhys was sure of it. The dancer focused his gaze on his feet, refusing to make eye contact with either the club owner or his lookalike. Rhys could already feel his face starting to heat up. 

“While we’re at it,” Jack continued, “why don’t we spice things up a bit? Whatever team earns the most tips between the two of you, I’ll waive your fee next Saturday. Sound good?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his co-workers offering agreeable nods, but he kept his own head low while Jack was still in the dressing room. 

“What about you? Rhysie?” Of course the club owner would single him out. 

“Y-yeah!” he squeaked much more sharply than he had intended. Rhys quickly cleared his throat and continued in his normal tone of voice, “Yeah, it’s fine.” 

“Glad to see you’re all on board. I’m expecting some great stuff from you guys.” Jack turned to leave, but paused to give his newest dancer a little wink. “Especially you, Rhysie.” 

As Jack finally left the office, Rhys sat at his vanity set and rested his chin in his hand as he stared blankly into the mirror. He tried to convince himself that once again, he was reading too much into this new work project. This was just another good business decision, Rhys reminded himself. But still, it somehow seemed too big of a coincidence that Jack would suggest this idea the very next day after Rhys confronted him in the office. 

There wasn’t much time to think about the situation, though, because just as expected, Timothy approached Rhys to discuss what sort of show they should put on together. 

“Feeling okay?” Tim asked, offering a sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah,” Rhys answered with a sigh. “Just can’t shake the feeling like Jack’s targeting me on purpose, or something.” 

“He does that to people,” the body double gave a casual shrug. “So, any ideas for what we should do? I’m thinking if we come up with a theme…” 

There was a brief pause, but after a moment, Rhys’ eyebrows slowly raised higher as his eyes widened, as though a lightbulb clicked on in his head. “Actually, Timothy, I think I just got an idea.” 

*~*~*~*

Rhys and Timothy spent time in between sets planning out their act, and by the time it was their turn, the duo was confident that they could win this little contest. The other dancers put on shows that were standard for a strip club - skimpy costumes accompanied by current pop or hip hop songs - but the two men had something more unique in mind. 

Timothy wore little black shorts with a simple white collar and a black bowtie, looking very much like a Chippendale’s dancer. Rhys, on the other hand, wore a shimmering silver dress with nothing on top but two straps that tied behind the neck and connected in a V-shape below his navel. The straps barely held up the skirt, which sat low on his hips with a slit cut nearly all the way to the waistband, revealing a lacy garter belt secured around his thigh. 

As the couple took the stage, a soft mambo tune began to flow from the speakers. The melody picked up as Rhys pressed back against Timothy, who rested his hand low on his partner’s hip. The younger man reached up, resting a hand behind Timothy’s shoulder for support as he gracefully slid down his partner’s torso, knees bending as he moved closer to the ground. 

_When marimba rhythms start to play_  
_Dance with me, make me sway_  
_Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore_  
_Hold me close, sway me more_  


Just like the song suggested, Rhys rocked his hips, swaying along with the rhythm as he slowly straightened up. Timothy rested a hand on his partner’s lower back, holding him steady as Rhys dipped backwards. The younger man lifted his exposed leg up around the body double’s hip, giving the audience a peek at the lacy panties beneath his dress. 

When he stood upright again, Rhys reached behind his neck, easily untying the top of the dress. The straps fell to his waist, leaving his entire torso exposed as he continued his dance. 

_Other dancers may be on the floor_  
_Dear, but my eyes will see only you_  


Of all the times for Rhys to look out into the audience, he just had to pick that part of the song. As if on cue, his eyes locked with Jack’s, causing his breath to hitch. However, the club owner wasn’t at his usual seat. Instead, he stood motionless with his drink in hand, staring slack-jawed at the two men on stage. 

_Only you have the magic technique_  
_When we sway I go weak_  


This was a performance for the entire club, Rhys reminded himself, not just for Jack. The dancer knew better, and yet he couldn’t fight that desire to show off for his boss. He turned his back to the club owner and hooked his thumbs in the dress, giving it a light shove so that it easily fell to the floor. Dressed in nothing but panties, heels, and the garter belt, Rhys glanced over his shoulder with a little grin as he spotted Jack again. The owner began to slowly pace through the club, a predatory gleam in his eye as he licked his lips, never taking his eyes off the stage. 

Not once during the routine did Rhys touch the pole, but rather, performed his usual moves against Timothy instead. Their instructions were to perform as a couple, but as the song went on, Timothy seemed more like Rhys’ prop than his partner. 

The younger man tried not to stare at Jack so much, but he couldn’t help it. All the way up until the end of the song, Rhys kept stealing glances towards his boss, whose gaze never left the stage. Rhys had been so distracted by Jack, that he almost forgot to collect the tips once the song finally ended. 

“Rhys, hey!” Timothy called out as he picked the dollar bills up from the stage. “A little help here?” 

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.” He gave a little apologetic grin as they quickly picked up the rest of the money. 

By the time they had finished, Rhys looked up to find Jack again, but the club owner was nowhere to be seen. It made no difference, anyway, Rhys told himself. He knew he should head back to the dressing room and count the money with Timothy. As he was on his way back, however, he was interrupted by Felicity. 

“Wonderful performance, love!” she congratulated. “In fact, someone has already requested you for a private lap dance.” 

“Yeah? That’s great!” Rhys grinned. “Just hang on a minute, I’ll get with the customer right after Tim and I count our tips.” 

He took another step towards the dressing room, but Felicity stopped him with a hand to his chest. “I don’t think it’s wise to keep him waiting.” 

“Oh. Okay…” This was very strange. These transactions always took place directly between the dancer and the customer. Rhys had never before seen one of the other employees act as a go-between like this. Perhaps this was another important customer, like the Hammerlocks? If that was the case, he didn’t want to risk angering them, so he handed his money to Timothy and made his way to the private booths. 

As he pulled back the curtain and slipped inside the stall, Rhys’ heart nearly jumped into his throat when he saw who, exactly, had requested him. 

“J-Jack?!” he exclaimed, eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he eyed his boss, who casually lounged in the cheap, faded armchair. “Why are you-- Is this a test? Do I need to audition again, or something? Am I in trouble?” 

The club owner gave a hearty chuckle. “You talk this much with all your clients?” Jack leaned forward and slipped some folded money into Rhys’ garter belt. “Get to work, cupcake.” 

Rhys couldn’t even begin to guess what this meant. All he knew was that there was money strapped to his leg, and he was being paid to give a lap dance. He told himself to just treat this like any other customer and go through his usual dance routine. 

That plan, however, was much more easily said than done. As Rhys straddled the other man’s waist and rolled his hips in time with the music, all he could think about was the way Jack looked at him while he was on stage, and now, paying him for a private dance. 

“Didn’t realize you hired your dancers for this kind of thing,” Rhys nervously chuckled, trying to relieve some of the tension. 

“I don’t,” Jack simply replied. 

That answer did not help Rhys as much as he hoped. In fact, it only made things even worse. He couldn’t keep writing off these moments as simple “business decisions.” How could this dance benefit the club in any way? This had to mean something, but Jack had already emphasized plenty of times that he had no intention of getting involved with any of his employees. 

Suddenly, Rhys felt a hand slide over his waist, making him shudder in response. “Touching isn’t allowed,” he gasped. 

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” Jack’s other hand crept up Rhys’ thigh, thumb gently brushing along his hip bone. 

Rhys tensed and bit his lip, but made no move to stop his boss. Without realizing what he was doing, he pressed even closer to Jack. “Maya says I’m supposed to call for Wilhelm.” 

“So what are you waiting for?” Jack taunted, moving one of his hands up the dancer’s torso, resting at his neck. A thumb grazed up over Rhys’ throat, tracing along his jawline. 

The dancer immediately noticed how Jack’s hands were so large and strong. He had idly noticed before, in passing, but Rhys never took the time to appreciate what it would be like, feeling those hands all over his body, or having those fingers pressed inside him. Without thinking about what he was doing, he tilted his head, leaning into that hand as he brushed his lips against Jack’s thumb. 

He suddenly felt a surge of blood shoot to his groin, which effectively managed to snap Rhys out of his daydream. The panties he wore were so incredibly small, there would be nothing left to the imagination if certain feelings began to stir. He froze, staring at Jack like a deer in the headlights as his brain finally caught up to what his body was doing. This was so very bad for so many reasons - mainly, the fact that Jack was still Rhys’ _boss_ , which could never end well, no matter the circumstances. 

Jack watched Rhys with a hungry look in his eyes, which slowly faded to confusion as Rhys stopped moving. “Something wrong, princess?” 

“I, uh…” The dancer hesitated, mind still struggling to catch up. “Time’s up! Dance is over!” 

Before Jack could say another word, Rhys shot up out of his lap and hurried away from the private booth. He didn’t realize he could move so fast in heels, but his surroundings were nearly a blur as he made his way back to the dressing room. 

Rhys leaned forward against his vanity, catching his breath that he hadn’t even realized was gone, in the first place. He suddenly remembered the money Jack slipped into his garter and reached down to see how much his boss had given him. Seeing a nice, crisp $100 bill, Rhys’ legs finally gave way as he plopped down onto the stool, head swimming in confusion. 

How could Jack say there was no chance for them, yet continue to flirt with Rhys like this? Even if this situation had been clearer, the dancer didn’t even know what he wanted, anyway. He was so torn between his common sense, knowing that this couldn’t end well, and an instinctive desire to be bent over his boss’ desk. 

Thankfully, the night was almost over, and Rhys would soon be able to put some distance between himself and that infuriating man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KEEP PUTTING RHYS IN DRESSES SORRY NOT SORRY AHAHAHA. But [here's the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrULwmbRYTY) he and Tim danced to, if anyone was wondering:


	8. Rulebreaking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Rhys has a close call with a belligerent customer, he confronts Jack about his suspicious behavior lately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING - I don't want to spoil anything, but this chapter has some attempted sexual assault. Clothes stay on, Rhys only gets pushed against a wall, but the intent is there, and I don't want to freak anyone out if you're unprepared =(
> 
> But otherwise, big thanks to BigEvilShine for suggesting the first part of this chapter!! I couldn't stop giggling at that idea, so I had to include it! ;D

As it turned out, Rhys and Timothy did not win Jack's little contest. Most of the tips that night were earned by Athena and Maya, thanks to Hyperion's predominantly male clientele, who were more than thrilled to see two women dancing together.

Rhys wasn't very disappointed by the loss, though. He honestly had forgotten there was supposed to be any reward at all. After his continually suspicious interactions with the club owner, Rhys found he was able to think of little else. He had no idea if he should attempt to push things further, or put some distance between himself and Jack. The latter was probably the correct decision, but Rhys secretly wondered what could have happened if he hadn’t run out of that booth. 

But it was too late to take back that decision. All he could do was hope he hadn't angered his boss in any way. Throughout the first few hours of Rhys’ next shift, he saw no sign of Jack, which felt like a relief, but he wasn't entirely sure if that was a good sign. For all he knew, the club owner could have intentionally been giving him the cold shoulder, or stewing in anger that would build up to something much worse. 

Good or bad, there was little Rhys could do about it, anyway. He needed to focus on his performance. Despite his best efforts, however, the dancer was obviously unfocused throughout the evening, and his tips showed that the customers noticed he wasn’t on top of his usual game. 

One particular individual, however, grew fairly belligerent with Rhys’ performance. 

“Yawn!” the man cried out needlessly, drawing attention to his obviously fake yawn. “Bo-ring!” 

Rhys glared towards the source of the commotion and recognized the burly, bearded man as one of the regulars - Hugo Vasquez. He always came in wearing a suit, usually accompanied by other meatheads in similar attire. Probably just the garden variety type of corporate assholes, by Rhys’ guess, out for a drink and a show after a long day at work. Vasquez had always been obnoxious at the bar, and the dancer was quickly learning that the man was even worse at the stage. 

“I could do better in my sleep!” Vasquez continued his heckling. 

“Do it, bro!” his buddies encouraged. “Yeah, show that twank how it’s done!” 

Before Rhys realized what was happening, Vasquez drunkenly clambered onto the stage, accompanied by the hoots and hollers of his friends. 

“Hey!” the dancer yelled as he approached the intruder. “You can’t be up here!” 

“Outta my way, sugar lumps.” Vasquez elbowed Rhys aside as he began an exaggerated dance. He threw his jacket at his friends, who responded with enthusiastic whistles. The rest of the audience, however, didn’t hold back their jeers as Vasquez’s shirt quickly followed. 

Rhys began to call to Wilhelm, but was distracted by the drunken excuse for a strip tease. Vasquez’s body was unlike anything he’d seen. There was an unbelievable amount of hair and flab. The way he jiggled his chest at the audience caused his man-boobs to shake with a sickening slap as they bounced off his skin. As he shook his hips, it caused ripples of fat to reverberate all over his torso. Rhys thought he might vomit. 

His attention snapped back to reality once he caught Wilhelm out of the corner of his eye. The bouncer had already begun to make his way towards the stage, but Rhys put up a hand and shook his head. The dancer wanted the pleasure of dealing with the belligerent drunk on his own. 

Vasquez’s legs were obviously unsteady. Rhys didn’t have to wait long until the man leaned a bit more forward than he should have. With one hand steadying himself against the pole, the dancer lifted his leg and firmly pressed a foot to the back of Vasquez’s thigh, pressing especially hard with the stiletto heel. The bearded man gave a shocked cry and fell right off the edge of the stage. His friends scrambled to catch him, but Vasquez landed flat on his face. 

Rhys received a few cheers from the rest of the audience for that, and it also boosted his tips for the rest of his dance. 

As he left the stage, he caught a glimpse of Vasquez and his friends stumbling towards the bathroom. Hopefully for them, the trip would help sober them up, before Wilhelm really did need to get involved. 

Once he returned to the dressing room to freshen up, a few of the other dancers who had seen the display congratulated Rhys on literally kicking Vasquez off the stage. The others were happy to laugh about what happened, but Axton, on the other hand, seemed a bit more disturbed than amused. 

Just as he thought the nightmare was behind him, Rhys returned to the club to try and sell a few lapdances, but was soon approached once again by the ever-flattering Hugo Vasquez and his gang. 

“Hey, man, listen,” one of the suits began before Rhys could brush them off. “We’re so sorry about what happened. Yeah, Hugo had a little one too many, you know?” 

“All sobered up now,” Vasquez added. “Cross my heart.” 

A quick glance over him showed his face and hair was a bit damp, as though he had splashed water over his face while he was in the bathroom. 

“No hard feelings,” Rhys replied, but there was a tone of suspicion in his voice as he glared at the men. 

“Lemme make it up to you. What d’you say?” Vasquez held up a money clip and nodded towards the private booths. 

“In your dreams.” Rhys rolled his eyes and began to turn away, but Vasquez grabbed his arm. 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” He held up two twenty dollar bills. “Double the price for one dance.” 

Rhys’ eyes lowered to the money as he chewed his bottom lip, trying to decide if the money was really worth dealing with an asshole like this. He was a bit short on tips for the night, and the man did seem more sober than before. Accepting the dance was probably a bad idea, but Rhys finally decided to accept, anyway. 

He led Vasquez to one of the private booths and began his dance, as usual. But it didn’t take long for Rhys’ concerns about this dance to be proven quite valid. The second he turned around and showed off his backside to his customer, Rhys felt a hand firmly grip his behind. 

With a sharp gasp, the dancer jumped and slapped Vasquez’s hand away. _”No touching.”_

“Come on, babydoll,” the bearded man purred as he tugged Rhys closer. “After what I paid you, I should get to do whatever the hell I want.” 

The dancer scoffed and gave Vasquez a firm shove away. “I warned you, asshole.” 

Rhys reached for the curtain to call for Wilhelm, but barely pulled it only a couple inches before Vasquez lurched out of his chair and pinned the smaller man to the wall. 

“Don’t be shy. I know what it is you whores really want.” 

“Good tips?” Rhys winced as he struggled to slip away, but Vasquez was too heavy. 

He could feel the rumbling in the other man’s chest against his back as Vasquez chuckled in response. “Cute. I was thinking of something… bigger. More than just a ‘tip.’” 

Rhys’ heart pounded, breath catching in his chest as he began to panic. He could hear the jingling of the other man’s belt as he unfastened it with one hand. Tears began to form in his eyes, but Rhys was determined not to cry. He should have known better than to accept this lapdance. His mind raced, desperate for a way out. There was no way Wilhelm - or anyone, really - could hear him shouting over the loud music, and he had only managed to open the curtain just a crack, so he doubted anyone would notice what was happening, either. Rhys needed to hold on and wait for that moment to kick Vasquez aside, just like on stage. 

He took a deep, shaky breath as he felt the other man’s fingers slip into the waistband of his briefs. Rhys braced himself for a fight, but all of a sudden, the weight pressed against his back was gone. He didn’t know why Vasquez let go, but this was an opportunity to escape, all the same. Rhys whipped around, ready to slam his heel into the other man’s shin, but was stunned, frozen in place at the scene before him. 

Jack, who seemed to have materialized out of nowhere, had Vasquez pinned back against the other wall, hand gripping the bearded man’s throat. “Rules say ‘no touching,’ buddy,” the club owner growled. 

Rhys’ eyes widened, jaw nearly dropped to the floor as he watched his boss’ free hand connect with Vasquez’s face. However, just one blow wasn’t enough to take down the larger man. Blood trickling down his nose, Vasquez snorted at Jack. “What? No premium service for your regulars?” 

He ended his sentence by jabbing his knee into Jack’s gut, causing the owner to stumble backwards. Jack reacted quickly and grabbed a fistful of the other man’s shirt to keep from falling over, but his momentum tugged Vasquez out of the booth with him, causing the fight to spill out into the main part of the club. 

Rhys stayed back and simply peeked out from the booth, making sure to keep his distance as he watched the other men fight. The music stopped as everyone watched the scene as two grown men in suits continued to pummel each other. Vasquez’s belt was still unfastened, causing his pants to slide down and gradually reveal more and more of his tightie-whities as they fought. Wilhelm stood on edge, ready to assist, but Jack didn’t seem like he needed the help. 

“Put a sweet piece of ass like that in front of me, what did you expect?” Vasquez taunted as they exchanged blows. “It’s like that scene from Jurassic Park, where they dangle the goat in front of the T-Rex.” 

“I liked the Godfather better. That scene where they killed that one guy - what’s his name? Luca. That’s right.” Jack chuckled as he finally knocked Vasquez to the ground, straddling his waist. “I’m gonna strangle the shit outta you, pumpkin, til those crappy hair plugs pop right outta your fat wallet head.” 

Just as promised, his hands locked down around the other man’s throat. Vasquez clawed at Jack’s arms, but his attacker didn’t let up. There was a grin on Jack’s face and a look in his eyes that gave Rhys an uneasy feeling, but there was a dark part of him that secretly enjoyed watching Vasquez get the shit beaten out of him. 

After a moment, just before it looked like the bearded man was about to pass out, Wilhelm put a hand on Jack’s shoulder and pulled him away. Unable to move, Vasquez lied on the ground, gasping for air. The bouncer reached down and yanked the man up by his collar and proceeded to drag him out the door without a further scene. 

With a sigh, Jack ran a hand through his hair and smoothed out the front of his jacket, quickly straightening himself out and he took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm himself. “Alright, people, shows over,” he announced to the club. “Back to partying!” 

Without even sparing a glance for Rhys, Jack casually returned to his office, as though nothing had happened. The dancer slipped back into the private booth and fell back into the chair, breathing heavily as he began to process what almost happened - and what _did_ actually happen. 

Since his first day at Hyperion, Rhys had seen Jack get into a few other similar brawls, but they were only ever in Angel’s defense. This wasn’t the first time a customer got too handsy with a dancer, and it wouldn’t be the last. Wilhelm was always the one who dealt with the general crowd of belligerents - not Jack. So why, now, did the owner decide to jump to a regular employee’s defense? 

Not to mention - how did he know what was happening? There was a slight gap in the curtain, so it’s possible that anyone could have seen. It just seemed so unlikely, that someone would have had to be looking for it to notice what was happening. Did that mean Jack had his eye on Rhys the whole time? Why would he even bother? 

Once he finally stood up and made his way back to the dressing room, Rhys was still in somewhat of a daze. He was oddly unaware of his own movements has he crossed through the club. It was almost like highway hypnosis, except with his own feet. 

As soon as he entered the room, Timothy was there to greet him with a look of concern on his face. “Rhys! What happened? Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, Tim. Thanks.” Rhys offered him a weak smile as he moved to sit at his vanity. 

“That was… wow. Jack almost killed that guy!” 

“I know.” The dancer should have been more frightened by that, but a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

“You sure you don’t need anything? If there’s any way I can help--” 

“Actually, I think I might take the rest of the night off,” Rhys sighed. “Think you can cover for me?” 

“Yeah, of course!” Timothy readily agreed. “I don’t think anyone would expect you to keep going tonight, not after that.” 

“Thanks.” He smiled and stood up again to pat his co-worker on the shoulder. “I owe you one.” 

“Well, technically this just means more tips for me, so… Um. Yeah, anyways!” Timothy gave an awkward chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “Take care of yourself, all right?” 

Rhys gave a nod in agreement and began changing out of his skin-tight shorts in exchange for his normal clothes. Once he was dressed, he made his way out of the club and back to his car. He placed his keys in the ignition, and… stopped. 

As he sat in his car, blankly staring at the steering wheel, Rhys wondered if he should talk about what had happened with somebody. His mind first went to Angel, but she seemed too busy with her bartending duties for the evening. There was always Vaughn, of course, but Rhys still hadn’t told him that he’d started dancing at the club. His roommate would undoubtedly disapprove of Rhys’ career choice, and the dancer wasn’t sure he wanted to face that right now. As for his other coworkers, he wasn’t sure that he felt close enough to any of them to discuss the incident. Timothy seemed all right, but he was already doing extra work covering Rhys’ shifts for the night, which meant he’d be too busy for a chat. 

That only left Jack. Of course, Rhys needed to talk to Jack. How could he have forgotten to thank his boss for coming to the rescue? He quickly snatched the keys from the ignition and hurried back into the club. 

Rhys knocked on the door to Jack’s office, and took the irritated shout of, _”What?!”_ as an invitation to step inside. He shut the door behind him and anxiously fiddled with the zipper on his jacket as he cautiously approached the desk. 

As Jack looked up to see who would dare interrupt him, his expression softened just a hint as he looked over Rhys. “The hell kind of strip tease is that for?” He gestured to the clothes the dancer wore. 

“It’s not. I, uh… I asked Tim to cover the rest of my dances for the night,” Rhys explained. 

The club owner gave an indifferent shrug and looked back down towards his paperwork. “Hey, it’s your loss in tips. Don’t let me stop you.” 

“Jack--” Rhys began, taking a deep breath before he continued, “I just wanted to say thanks. For earlier, I mean.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” Jack kept his eyes down as he jotted down some notes. “The asshole had it coming.” 

Rhys said what he had come here to say, yet he still felt strangely unfulfilled. He knew what he wanted to talk about, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up, or if he should. So, Rhys awkwardly stood in front of Jack, fidgeting in hesitation. 

Realizing his employee made no move to leave, Jack looked up again, raising an eyebrow. “Now what?” 

“Do you, ah…” Rhys scratched at his head, eyes shifting back and forth throughout the room. “Do you like me?” 

Jack watched his employee with a deadpan expression on his face. “Yeah, sure, whatever. You’re doing great work, kiddo.” 

“No, I mean…” He paused again, taking a couple more steps to the edge of the desk. “I’ve never seen you fight a guy like that. Not for anyone besides Angel, at least.” 

The club owner tried to brush it off with an indifferent wave. “He broke the rules. Put his hands on the merchandise.” 

Frustrated that he wasn’t getting the answers he wanted, Rhys gave a huff and replied, “You’re not so great at following your own rules, either.” 

Jack set his pen down on the desk and slowly stood from his chair, glaring at Rhys. “Something you wanna say, cupcake?” 

Rhys tensed, but stood his ground. “That lapdance last night… And- and the way you fought today - for _me_. You can’t keep doing these things for me and just say that it’s nothing!” 

With a sigh, Jack made his way around the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I warned you not to fall for me, Rhysie.” 

“What did you expect me to think, Jack?! You give me all this special treatment…” 

“Rhys.” Jack attempted to interrupt him, but the dancer kept going. 

“...you were _all over_ me yesterday…” 

_”Rhys!”_

“...you basically admitted that you think I’m--” 

Since words weren’t working, Jack suddenly took a fistful of Rhys’ collar and tugged him in, pressing their lips together. 

Rhys made a small, muffled squeal in shock, but offered no resistance. He practically melted against Jack as he enthusiastically kissed back. When Jack finally broke the kiss, Rhys gave a soft, involuntary whine in disappointment. 

“That clear enough for you, sweetheart?” Jack said with a smirk. 

“But…! But your rules?” Rhys mumbled, dazed. 

“To hell with the rules.” Jack slipped his arms around the younger man’s waist with a predatory grin. “I tried, kiddo, I really did. Thought watching you dance with my double would get this outta my system, but that only made me want you more.” 

“Jack…” Rhys leaned in again, aching for another kiss, but all of a sudden, the door to the office swung open. 

Rhys quickly jumped back, while Jack casually pulled away to lean against the desk while Angel stepped into the office. She looked inquisitively between the two of them, but Rhys quickly greeted her with a wave, trying - and failing - to play it casually. 

“Oh, h-hey, Angel!” He grinned nervously at her. “I was just asking if I can take off early for the night. And-- and so that’s what I’m doing. Now. See you guys tomorrow!” 

Before either of them could say anything, he quickly slipped past Angel and left the office. His heart raced as he returned to his car. As he drove himself home, Rhys was a mix of excitement and nerves, all at once. He had been wanting this, hadn’t he? But he never thought much further ahead, until now. What would this mean for his job? What if people found out about them? And this was yet another secret for him to keep from Vaughn. 

Even now that he finally had the answers he wanted, there was still so much left unclear. He and Jack had only just kissed, yet Rhys’ mind was already finding a million reasons to worry. But despite all those concerns, the one thought that stood out from the rest was what it’s going to feel like when Jack finally bends him over that desk and completely ravages him.


	9. Standards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys' relationship with Jack continues to heat up, but Vaughn grows suspicious of Rhys' new behavior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I just want to say WOW I AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I got a new job and I'm back to being exhausted all the time. I really don't intend to abandon this or my Hamptons AU, especially since I have my fantastic girlfriend to help remind me I need to get back to writing, so... I will keep trying!!! @.@

Rhys was too excited to sleep that night after he and Jack kissed. He had waited so long for that moment, and now he couldn't stop thinking about what would happen the next time they saw each other. Even though he was exhausted from the lack of sleep, Rhys still went in early for work the next day. If he was lucky, maybe Jack would show up before the club opened, and they could pick up where they left off from the night before.

No such luck. Rhys already had to get undressed and prepare for his shift by the time his boss arrived. Still, he tried to squeeze in a quick moment with Jack before it was showtime. 

“Hey!” Rhys beamed as he followed Jack into the office. “Sorry I ran out last night! I kinda panicked when Angel walked in.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Jack snorted. “She knows, by the way.” 

Rhys’ eyes widened in shock. “Wha-- how?!” 

“Even if I hadn't told her, you've got a super crappy poker face, kiddo.” 

That wasn't the answer Rhys had expected. He stood silently for a moment, giving Jack a blank stare until he finally spoke up. “Oh. Um, I assumed you'd want to keep this kinda hush-hush.” 

“I do,” Jack replied. “Flap those pretty lips of yours to anyone else, and I'll cut out your tongue.” Rhys’ jaw snapped shut at the threat as Jack continued, “Angel gets to know because she's my daughter, but if anyone else finds out, you're done.” 

Rhys quickly nodded his head in agreement. He had no problem keeping this a secret, but he still worried someone else would find out, somehow. If Jack was telling the truth about Rhys’ poker face, the dancer could unintentionally give away their developing relationship. 

“Now that that's clear,” Jack gave a wolfish grin as he eyed his half-naked employee, “I think we have some unfinished business from last night.” 

The club owner moved closer and slid his arms around Rhys’ waist. Just as he leaned in to kiss on the younger man’s neck, the music from the dance floor turned up and pounded through the walls. Rhys’ eyes widened and he pulled away, looking a bit alarmed. 

“I gotta go!” he announced, eyebrows knit together in regret. 

“I'm the boss, and I say it's okay if you're a little late.” Jack reached over to grab at Rhys’ ass. 

“I want this, Jack, so bad,” he groaned. “But people are gonna notice…” If Rhys had too many absences, the other employees would definitely start to wonder why Jack seemed to favor one dancer over the others. With that threat fresh on Rhys’ mind, he didn't care to take his chances of anyone else finding out what they were up to. 

With a sigh, the club owner pulled away and fell into his chair. “Yeah, you're right. Shit.” He lifted an arm, waving Rhys out of the office. “We'll get back to this later.” 

The dancer quickly slipped out of the office, hoping no one noticed. Thankfully, the night went on as usual, but every time Rhys danced, he noticed Jack watching from the bar. 

It was almost like the club was empty, besides Rhys and his boss. When he danced, it was solely for Jack. Rhys knew he didn't need to impress the club owner any further, but there was so much unfulfilled frustration building between the two of them. Rhys wanted to make Jack crave him even more. He was tired of waiting, and he wanted to make sure Jack felt just as impatient. 

At the end of the night, when he was finally back in his street clothes, Rhys left the building with the rest of his coworkers, but instead of going home, Rhys waited in his car until the only cars left in the lot were his crappy sedan and a sleek yellow sports car with the license plate “UR HERO.” There was no question as to who owned that car. Jack hadn’t left Hyperion yet, so Rhys stayed and waited. 

The dancer had almost dozed off by the time Jack made his way outside. The sound of the heavy club door being shut caused Rhys to jolt upright, and seeing Jack walking to his car gave Rhys a second wind of energy. He crossed the parking lot at a jog, calling out to the older man. 

“Hey, Jack!” 

The club owner quickly spun around, but relaxed once he saw it was only Rhys. “Jesus Christ, kiddo, I was ready to break your jaw.” 

Now that Jack mentioned it, running at someone in a dark parking lot during the early morning hours probably wasn't the greatest approach. He offered an apologetic grin as he replied, “Sorry. I just… I've been waiting to get some time alone with you.” 

The dancer lowered his head and shyly glanced up at Jack through his lashes. Rhys knew exactly what he was doing. In the short time he'd been dancing, he already picked up several body language tricks to make himself seem more alluring. 

Jack's expression softened as he wrapped his arms around Rhys’ waist to tug him closer. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to grab you off that stage and keep you all to myself.” 

“You got me now, handsome.” Rhys gripped the lapels of Jack's sports coat as he pulled the older man in for a kiss. 

Jack gladly returned the kiss while guiding Rhys back against the hood of his car. Feeling the metal bump the back of his knees, Rhys seated himself on the vehicle and wrapped his legs around Jack's waist, tugging him closer. The older man eagerly rolled his hips against Rhys and began to push him further down against the car. 

Heart racing, Rhys laid back onto the hood and watched Jack practically crawl over him, trailing kisses over his employee's neck. “Shit, pumpkin, I wanna mark you up so bad. Let everyone know - property of Jack.” 

“So do it,” Rhys whined, tilting his head to expose his neck better. 

“Can't. It's bad for business,” he replied as he gave the dancer’s earlobe a playful bite. 

Rhys whined in disappointment and rocked harder up against Jack to urge him on. The older man slid a hand up the bottom of Rhys’ shirt, savoring the soft feel of his skin as he made his way up the dancer's torso. His fingers brushed against a nipple, causing Rhys to respond with a sharp gasp. Jack's thumb rubbed more firmly against that sensitive flesh, which only made Rhys squirm even more. The younger man chewed his lip trying hard to keep quiet, but when Jack gave him a little pinch, Rhys couldn't hold back a pleased groan. 

“Oh, babycakes, I'm gonna have so much fun just wrecking you.” Jack smirked and leaned up to watch Rhys as he slowly moved his hands down to the waistband of the dancer's jeans. 

This was it - what Rhys had spent all day and night thinking about. But now that Jack's hand was literally in his pants, the dancer was shocked by the words that came out of his own mouth. “Jack, wait…” 

The club owner knit his eyebrows together with a frown. “What's wrong?” 

“I want you - _so_ bad…” 

“And here I am,” Jack interrupted. 

“...but not like this.” 

“The hell do you mean, ‘like this’?” Jack pulled himself upright, allowing Rhys to sit up. 

“I mean here, in a strip club parking lot on the hood of your car.” 

“Who cares?” Jack shrugged. “No one's gonna see us back here at this hour, and I'm still gonna blow your mind no matter where we do it.” 

“ _I_ care.” Rhys pouted up at Jack. “When I imagine us… together, it's not like this. I'm not so desperate that I need a quickie in a parking lot.” 

“Hey, you're the one that jumped me.” 

“I know, I know.” Rhys sighed, slumping his shoulders. “I want this more than anything, but I want it to be…” He hesitates, trying to find the right word. “...Nicer.” 

Jack rolled his eyes with a grumble. “What, you need candles and rose petals, or whatever crap? Because I don't do that shit.” 

“No, I just have standards,” Rhys snapped, folding his arms in frustration. 

After a moment of silence, Jack pulled away with a frustrated groan. “So what do you want me to do?” 

“I'm off Wednesday night. Maybe we can get something to eat, and then after…” 

“You're kidding me.” Jack glared flatly at Rhys. “A minute ago, you practically threw yourself at me, and now you're saying I need to take you on a _date?_ ” 

“I guess you could just bend me over your desk at work, but then Angel might walk in on us, or Athena or Timothy…” 

“All right, all right,” Jack interrupted. “Fine, I get it. I'll pick you up Wednesday night.” 

“Looking forward to it.” Rhys grinned as he leaned in for another kiss. 

Jack hooked an arm around the dancer's waist, holding him tightly as they kissed, while his free hand slid up to cup Rhys’ cheek. The younger man responded with a soft, pleased sigh, but without warning, Jack suddenly pulled away. 

Rhys looked at him with a questioning pout, but before he could say anything, his boss spoke up, “If nothing’s gonna happen here tonight, you should get home.” 

Part of Rhys didn't want to leave yet, but he knew there was no point in staying any longer. It would do nothing but continue to frustrate both of them. With a little pout, he slowly started to move away from the car. “Yeah, guess so. See you tomorrow, then.” 

Rhys gave a quick wave goodbye as he turned back towards his car. Before he could even get his seatbelt buckled, Jack was already peeling out of the parking lot. 

*~*~* 

The next afternoon, after Rhys finally woke up, Vaughn was already awake, dressed, and finishing his lunch in the living room. Rhys wished him good morning with a smile, but Vaughn only looked up at him with a confused expression, as though his best friend had grown a third eye overnight. 

“You've got, um…” Vaughn gestured to his cheek. “Is that glitter?” 

“Huh?!” Rhys’ eyes widened as he quickly rubbed his face. “Is it gone?” 

“You just made it worse, bro.” Vaughn cringed as he looked over his roommate. “It's all over your hands too.” 

Rhys tried wiping his hands off on his T-shirt, but that only seemed to spread the glitter around even more. “That, uh… Wow that really doesn't come off.” 

“Bro…” Vaughn shifted nervously in his seat, eyes glancing off to the side. “I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but you've been coming home with a lot of single dollar bills lately, and now the glitter… And you kinda smell like brass polish.” 

Rhys nervously eyed his roommate. “What are you trying to say?” 

“It's nothing! I'm probably just being paranoid,” Vaughn replied with a nervous chuckle. “Just… For my own peace of mind, tell me you're still a bartender.” 

Rhys could feel his whole body heat up as he started to panic, not sure how to answer that. He should have known his best friend would have figured it out eventually, yet Rhys was completely unprepared for this conversation. He couldn't lie to Vaughn, but he still wasn't sure he was ready to tell the truth. 

But sometimes, no answer _is_ the answer. Rhys didn't need to say a word, but his hesitation completely validated Vaughn’s suspicions. “Bro… You didn't.” 

“Jack thought I'd be good at it!” Rhys quickly defended. “And I've been making lots of money!” 

“ _Jack_ thought?! Rhys, buddy, tell me you're not sleeping with him.” 

“I'm not!” Rhys confidently replied, then a little more quietly added, “Not yet.” 

“Jesus Christ, Rhys!” Vaughn exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “What are you thinking?!” 

“Well, Wednesday he's taking me out to dinner, so afterwards, I’m thinking we're gonna--” 

“I meant what are you doing with Jack at all?! I thought you said that guy's crazy and dangerous? And you're dating him now?!” 

“No! No, we're not _dating._ ” Rhys explained. “We just made out a little.” 

“And Wednesday you're gonna screw him - a guy that you're not even dating?! That really doesn't make it any better. And he's still your boss!” 

“Yeah, but… He's really hot.” Rhys pouted, completely at a loss for how to defend himself. 

Once Vaughn had a moment to process all this, he stood up with a sigh and placed a hand on Rhys’ shoulder. “Look. You're my bro, and I am worried like _hell_ for you. But… If this is what you want to do, just please, _please_ be careful.” 

Rhys gave Vaughn a crooked smile as he replied, “I know what I told you about Jack sounds kind of messed up, but I think I really trust him. He even came to my rescue the other day.” 

“Your rescue?” As soon as Vaughn spoke up, Rhys knew he'd made a huge mistake in mentioning that one little detail. “Rhys. Why would you need rescuing?” 

“It's nothing! There was this drunken asshole trying to get a little too handsy. Jack saw what was happening and beat the crap out of the guy. You should have seen it! The guy was huge and hairy, and kinda fat, but Jack just _wailed_ on him like it was nothing!” 

The story, however, did nothing to ease Vaughn’s mind. He looked more and more concerned as Rhys continued. “Your boss beat up a customer for you? And all you did was make out with him a little?” 

“Oh, no, that was before we kissed or anything.” 

“ _Before?!_ Rhys, that's kind of really messed up.” 

Rhys replied with a heavy sigh. “I know how it sounds, but trust me, everything is fine. I'm just having a little fun, and if it gets too crazy, I'll bail.” 

“Promise me, Rhys,” Vaughn sternly ordered. “Promise me you'll stay safe.” 

“I'm fine, bro. I swear,” Rhys assured and held up his fist. 

Vaughn still looked a bit uncertain, but after a moment he finally bumped Rhys’ fist with his own. “All right… I trust you.” 

With that issue settled, Rhys started to get ready for another night at the club. Even though he had to wait a while longer until he could spend a night alone with Jack, Rhys was still eager to just be around his boss every night. Patience was difficult to find, but he knew that the anticipation and building frustration would only make Wednesday night more intense.


	10. Kismet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys has been waiting so long to find a moment of intimacy with Jack. Finally, they get to go on a much-anticipated date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S HEEEERE, chapter 10 is here omg I started this forever ago and then other muses started nagging at me and I wrote OC bullshit instead. (Actually I'm kind of excited about the idea I have for him, so if you like my stuff, go show my shitty son some love ;3; ) BUT ANYWAY. Here ya go.

The night of his big date, Rhys anxiously rummaged through his closet, looking for the best outfit. His friends always joked that he had an awful fashion sense, so he made an effort to make sure his shirt actually matched his tie. Jack told him this restaurant had a strict tie-and-jacket dress code, which only made Rhys even more nervous about making a good impression.

The pile of discarded clothes on Rhys’ bed steadily grew taller as he tried on and rejected several outfits. It would have been nice if Vaughn helped, but he refused to condone or take any part in Rhys’ date. 

Finally, Rhys settled on a light blue shirt with a yellow tie underneath a crisp black suit. He stepped out of his room and held his arms out to model for his roommate. “What do you think?” 

Vaughn remained seated on the couch, jaw clamped shut as he looked over Rhys. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but struggled to contain himself. Vaughn finally gave a heavy sigh as he pulled himself off the couch and reached forward to yank Rhys’ tie out of his waistband. 

“Bro, come on. You can't tuck your tie in your pants.” 

Rhys offered him a little grin as he ran a hand over his hair. “Good catch.” 

“Can't have my best bro making an idiot of himself, even if I am super against this date.” 

Rhys offered a fist bump, which Vaughn reluctantly returned. “I'll text you if I need backup, okay?” 

Vaughn quickly nodded. “Keep me updated.” 

A moment later, Rhys’ phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and saw a text from Jack saying that he was outside. After telling his roommate goodbye, Rhys headed outside and took the stairs two steps at a time down to the apartment's main entrance. 

A familiar yellow sports car idled on the curb out front. As Rhys stepped outside, Jack left the driver's seat and stepped around to open the passenger side for his date. 

“Looking sharp, kiddo,” Jack greeted. 

Rhys noticed the older man’s eyes trailed up and down, looking him over. Proud that he impressed Jack, Rhys tried not to grin too hard as he entered the car. “Er, thanks. Vaughn helped, kinda. I don’t really have the greatest taste in clothes. At least, that’s what my friends always say.” 

Realizing he had begun rambling, Rhys clamped his mouth shut and just sat down. If Jack was bothered, he gave no indication. He simply walked back around to the driver’s side and took his seat as well. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” the older man replied as he started up the engine. “Those little outfits you wear on the stage are friggin’ perfect.” 

Rhys could feel his cheeks heating up at the comment. He slumped in his seat a little and absently glanced out the window. “Those aren’t really… They’re not real outfits, they’re just costumes.” 

“It’s so cute you have no idea how smokin’ hot you are. Been telling you since day one you’re a knockout,” Jack spoke casually, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove. 

These straightforward compliments completely threw Rhys off guard. No one had ever complimented him like this before, let alone a rich club owner who could easily pick up any date he wanted. Jack could have had anybody, but he was here with Rhys. “Er… thanks?” 

Part of him regretted asking for a date. He could have already fooled around with Jack days ago, but now, Rhys had to wait until dinner was over. At least this place ought to be good, he figured, if there was a dress code. Jack seemed to really be trying to impress Rhys, which the dancer took as a good sign. 

Jack finally pulled his car up in front of a building with a line of people trailing down the sidewalk. A man in a vest instantly approached and opened the door for Rhys. Jack tossed his keys to the man, who promptly left to park the car. As Rhys stood gawking at the building, his eyes fell on a neatly lit sign that simply read, “Kismet.” 

“I've heard of this place,” he gasped. “Jack, it takes _months_ to get a reservation here!” 

“Only if you're nobody.” Jack placed a hand on the small of Rhys’ back and guided him to the door. 

They were immediately approached by a man in a crisp black and white suit. “Glad to have you back, Sir,” he greeted. “Shall I prepare your usual table?” 

“Sounds great, Tony,” Jack casually replied. 

This Tony briefly left them to give orders to some other employees, then returned to the couple to guide them to their table. Rhys was completely stunned. He had never seen anyone get this kind of attentive service anywhere, let alone at a place this fancy. 

They were led to a table off to the side, near the back of the room. Tony left them with a couple menus, and a waiter immediately came to pour two glasses of champagne. 

“Jack, this…” Rhys paused, nearly rendered speechless by all this. “This is amazing.” 

“Just wait ‘til you try the food. The whole menu is great, just make sure you save room for dessert,” Jack offered. “They've got this ice cream with truffle shavings and gold flakes on top. Seriously - it's to die for.” 

That sounded a little excessive, but Rhys was too hungry to worry about dessert just yet. As his eyes glanced over the menu, however, he noticed something very important was missing. 

“Hey, um… There aren't any prices listed here.” 

Jack gave a soft chuckle in response. “Kiddo, anyone who comes here doesn't care about money. It's all overpriced and expensive as shit, so go ahead and order whatever you want.” 

Everything on the menu sounded delicious. Rhys had no idea how he'd decide what to get. Part of him wondered if he could get away with taking Jack into the bathroom and having his way with him right then and there, but a place this fancy probably had a bathroom attendant. Rhys reminded himself to just be patient and enjoy this, because he doubted he'd get another opportunity to eat at a place like this. 

When the waiter returned to take their orders, Rhys decided on an apricot-stuffed pork tenderloin, while Jack ordered himself a filet mignon, rare. 

Once they were left alone again, Rhys leaned forward against the table and asked, “You come here a lot?” 

“Sometimes,” Jack shrugged. He also leaned forward, reaching out to brush his fingers over the back of Rhys’ hand. “Getting a table here is all about knowing the right people, greasing the right palms... the usual deal.” 

Heart pounding, Rhys laced his fingers with Jack’s. There were so many questions he wanted to ask - about Angel's mom, about this ex-girlfriend who left him, or really anything about his personal life - but he didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing to upset Jack. As his mind scrambled to think of something to say, Jack thankfully broke the silence. 

“So tell me, Rhysie. How did I get so lucky to have you come looking for a job at my bar?” 

“Honestly?” Rhys glanced off to the side with a nervous chuckle. “I just needed a job, really.” 

“Any college?” 

His education and experience was all on his resumé, but it didn't surprise Rhys that his boss hadn't paid any attention to it. “Yeah, I have Bachelor of Science. Computer programming.” 

“No shit?” Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. “And you couldn't get a job doing that?” 

Rhys shrugged. “Jobs are tough to come by.” 

“Well, your bad luck is my gain,” Jack said with a grin. 

“It's definitely not what I planned on doing,” the dancer replied with an awkward chuckle, “but everyone's been great. Angel’s been a big help, and Timothy. And you… I never thought I'd have even a little chance with you, but here we are!” 

Thankfully, the arrival of the food kept Rhys from rambling even further. The presentation looked so clean and fancy on the plate, he almost thought it would be a shame to ruin it by eating. Jack, however, didn't waste any time digging into his steak. 

“You waiting for the pig’s permission or something?” Jack quirked a brow at Rhys. “Eat up.” 

There was no use staring at the food, so Rhys grabbed his silverware and took a bite. He didn't know how it was possible, but the food tasted even better than it looked. His eyes widened as he swallowed the first piece, then immediately went in for the next bite. 

“See? What did I tell you? Good, right?” 

Rhys eagerly nodded, waiting to speak until he finished swallowing his food. “Wow, Jack, this is _really_ good.” 

“Good enough to get me laid?” the older man asked with a smirk. 

There was a pause as Rhys hesitated, unsure how to respond. Surely, Jack must have meant it as a joke, right? The dancer cracked a nervous grin, shifting in his seat as he spoke up, “I mean, I was hoping, I guess, if everything goes well…” 

“Thank shit. You are one hell of an expensive lay.” 

Rhys narrowed his eyes at Jack, fist tightening around the fork. _”Excuse me?”_

“You know, since the car wasn't good enough for you, I had to take you on this date…” 

“You didn't have to bring me _here!_ ” As Rhys’ temper flared, he lost a little control over his volume. “I would have been happy with a date to McDonald's! I just…” He slumped in his chair, heart shattering at Jack's words. “I just wanted to be with you.” 

“C’mon, Rhys, a casual fuck in a parking lot isn't any different from a casual fuck in my penthouse,” Jack continued in an irritated tone. “The difference is now, I'm paying for sex.” 

That was it. Rhys threw his napkin on the table as he quickly stood up. He tried to say “fuck you,” but the words were blocked by the giant lump in his throat. He couldn't stand being near Jack, and he refused to cry in this fancy restaurant, so Rhys quickly stormed off without another word. 

He stomped out the front door and kept walking down the sidewalk. Not paying much attention to where he was going, Rhys nearly bumped into a few other pedestrians as he hurried aimlessly down the street. He didn't know where he was going, just that he needed to put as much distance between himself and the restaurant as possible. So Jack wasn't trying to impress him, after all. He was trying to buy Rhys for the night. Absolutely incredible. 

As he walked, Rhys reached into his jacket pocket, hands shaking as he fumbled to grab his phone. He tried to shoot off a text to Vaughn, but couldn't calm himself enough to hit the proper buttons, so he decided to just call instead. 

“Hey, you okay?” Vaughn quickly answered. “How's the date?” 

Rhys tried to speak, but he was too busy trying not to cry to say anything. Concerned by the silence, Vaughn continued, “Is this a butt-dial? Rhys? What's going on.” 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep a calm, level voice. “I… I need a ride.” 

A quick moment later, Rhys could already hear the jingle of keys on the other end of the line. “Bro, what's going on? Where are you?” 

Unable to fight the tears any longer, Rhys quietly sobbed as he replied, “He's such an _asshole_ , Vaughn, you were right. This was a huge mistake. Shit, I'm such an idiot!” 

“What happened? Are you safe?” 

“I left. I'm not at the restaurant anymore, I don't know--” He wiped his eyes and looked up to find the street sign. “I'm at 93rd and Clark.” 

“Good. Okay… good.” Rhys could hear Vaughn start the car on the other line. “Just… stay there. I'm on my way.” 

As the call ended, Rhys sat on the stoop of a shop that was closed for the day and huddled up into himself. He hoped Jack wouldn't come looking for him. Rhys didn't want to be anywhere near that man. In fact, he fully intended to call off sick the next day. He almost felt like quitting his job, but he couldn't afford to do that without something else lined up. Just as he resolved to take the day off tomorrow and spend it job hunting, Rhys spotted his roommate’s battered down old coupe pull up on the curb. 

Rhys practically jumped when Vaughn arrived. He quickly stood and hurried into the passenger side of the car. By now, he managed to dry his eyes, though he was sure they were still red and puffy. It didn't matter, though. All he wanted was to go home and collapse on his bed. 

“Bro, what happened?” Vaughn gave Rhys a concerned look before he started to drive again. 

“He called me a whore.” 

“He WHAT?!” Vaughn suddenly slammed back down on the brake, looking over at Rhys with a wide, alarmed look. “Where is this restaurant? I'll go find him, and-- and I don't know! I'll figure it out when I get there.” 

Rhys lazily waved a hand at him. “Bro, for real? You're not fighting this guy.” 

“Okay, maybe not,” Vaughn conceded as he started to drive again. “But he can't just get away with calling you that!” 

“He didn't actually say it _exactly,_ ” Rhys explained, “but he said it was like he was paying a lot of money to have sex with me.” 

“Same thing! Tell me you threw your drink in his face.” 

“Wish I did. I was just so… stunned. I couldn't do anything. I just left.” 

“Good. The guy sounds like a psychopath. I mean, who even says that when they're trying to get laid?!” 

“Someone rich, who thinks he can do anything he wants because he's never had to face any consequences of being an asshole.” 

“You're too good for him, anyway. Typical rich asshole. Oh yeah, and Rhys?” 

He perked up in the passenger seat, curiously looking over at Vaughn. 

“Told you so.” 

“Ass.” Rhys gave Vaughn a light punch in the arm and finally cracked a little smile. 

When they finally returned home, Rhys went straight to his bedroom and stripped down to his boxers, not caring that his nice clothes were scattered all over the floor. He flopped onto the mattress and cocooned himself in blankets as he turned on the TV, looking for anything to distract him from his fiasco of a night. Everything left him feeling so drained, that it didn't take much longer before he passed out drooling onto his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I can't believe I wrote 10 entire chapters of something and they still didn't bang, wtf is wrong with me.


	11. Save A Horse...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a humiliating date, Rhys dreads returning to work and facing his boss. Maybe it's time for a little payback, though.

Rhys knew he couldn't keep avoiding work, no matter how much he hated his boss at the moment. He managed to skip one day at the club and spent the free time filling out job applications at home, but until one of those places actually hired him, he needed to tough it out at Hyperion so he could afford rent and food.

Returning to the club felt awkward. For some reason, it felt like everyone knew what a fool he was, and that they were secretly whispering behind Rhys’ back. He knew this couldn't possibly be true. Jack was the one who wanted to keep things quiet, after all, but what if he changed his mind? What if he was mad at Rhys for storming out, and decided to tell everyone in retaliation? The dancer entered the club like a dog with his tail between his legs. All he wanted was to keep his head down and hurry straight to the dressing room. 

But because his head was down, he hadn't realized someone had approached him. A light touch on the arm caused him to jump and make a very unflattering squealing sound. 

“Rhys? It's just me.” He looked up to see Angel watching him with a very concerned look in her eyes. “Is everything okay? You missed work yesterday. That's not like you.” 

“Ask Jack about it,” he replied with a scoff. 

That didn't seem to ring any bells with her. “Ask him what?” 

“You mean, he didn't tell you?” 

By the look on Angel’s face, he realized she actually didn't know what happened between Rhys and her father. That helped him relax a little bit. If Jack hadn't told Angel, then it was very unlikely that he said anything to someone else. 

With a sigh, Rhys continued, “I should have listened to you. I don't know why I thought--” He paused to take a deep breath and sort out what he wanted to say. This was a very unusual situation, since Angel was both his friend and the daughter of the man Rhys had been trying to sleep with. She probably didn't want to hear an excessive amount of information about her dad, so Rhys tried to word his sentences carefully. 

“All I wanted was just one date before we, er… did anything. Because I'm not _that_ desperate, you know? And he took me to this really fancy place. I would've been happy with anything, but I thought he was trying to impress me. Then right there, in the middle of dinner, he said to my face that he was basically paying for me to have sex with him!” 

Angel sighed as she put a hand to her brow, shaking her head. “Unbelievable. Jack always had emotional issues, but this is a new low.” 

“So, I maybe might be applying to other jobs.” He awkwardly shrugged his shoulders with his eyes lowered to the floor. 

“I understand.” Angel placed a hand on his shoulder and offered a sympathetic smile. “I'm sorry that happened.” 

Rhys offered his thanks and turned to head for the dressing room to get ready for his shift. He wanted to avoid Jack as much as he could, but the dancer would have to perform on stage eventually. There was nothing he could do to avoid his boss, if Jack decided to sit in the audience and watch the show. Since there was no getting around it, Rhys started to wonder if maybe there was any way he could get back at Jack. 

Suddenly, he remembered the old cowgirl costume banished to the corner of the dressing room. He didn't have exact details on what happened, but he knew the other dancers avoided the outfit because it was the favorite costume of Jack’s ex. Without a second thought, Rhys eagerly jumped up to start getting dressed. Since it was meant for a woman, it was a bit tight, but Rhys was pretty slender for a man. Besides, the tight, skimpy outfits usually meant more tips. 

Once his co-workers noticed what he was doing, they cast wary glances in his direction as he slipped into the costume. 

“Um, Rhys?” Timothy quietly spoke up. “Are you sure that's the one you want to wear tonight, buddy?” 

“If Jack doesn't like it, then he doesn't have to watch,” Rhys shrugged. 

Axton joined them and gave Rhys a hearty pat on the back. “The kid's got some stones. I like it. Let him give it a shot.” 

“I'm not afraid of Jack,” he replied defiantly. “Someone needs to knock his ego down a peg or two.” 

“Or five,” Maya casually agreed. 

Tim seemed to be the only one actually worried over this. The others seemed either indifferent, or curious to see what would happen if Rhys tried poking the bear. Despite any warnings, though, he was dead-set on going through with this. 

Once it was time for his set, Rhys even requested that the DJ play “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy.” It was obvious and cheesy, but if Rhys wanted to make a statement, he figured he might as well go overboard. 

As he began his dance, he quickly scanned the crowd, but didn't see any sign of Jack. He should have been relieved, but to his own surprise, Rhys was actually a little disappointed that his boss wasn't here for the dancer's big “fuck you” dance. 

The song, however, must have piqued Jack's curiosity. As the first chorus played, the door to Jack's office flew open and the owner stormed into the club. Even from the stage, with all the lights in his face, Rhys could see the fury in Jack's eyes as he watched the dancer on stage. This only encouraged Rhys even further. He tossed his usual shy act out the window and danced more confidently, even getting handsy with some of the patrons. 

Rhys wanted nothing more than to throw Jack’s losses in his smug, stupid face. His ex-girlfriend left him (Rhys had a good guess as to why), and now Jack was losing Rhys. As he performed on that stage, the dancer tried his damndest to represent everything Jack could have had, but let slip away. 

Out if the corner of his eye, it almost looked like Jack was moving closer to the stage, fists balled in anger. Suddenly, Angel left Janey alone at the bar as she hurried over towards her father. The music was too loud to hear what they were saying, but they both looked angry. Finally, Angel managed to drag Jack back inside his office. 

Rhys finished the song with a fat chunk of singles he picked up from the stage. He stepped back into the dressing room to put away his tips, and instead of changing out of the costume, Rhys decided to keep it on a little longer. Though he had already succeeded in irritating Jack, the customers really seemed to like this performance, judging by the tips. 

As he returned to the floor to try and sell some lap dances, Axton approached him again with a wide grin. “Still not taking that thing off, huh? Might as well keep it on. Looks like you've got yourself a guardian ‘Angel.’” 

“Well, I got good tips on that performance, so I thought, why not?” 

“Wasn't the outfit that got you the tips. Trust me.” Axton gave him a wink and shot a couple finger guns as he walked away to get ready for his own dance. 

As Rhys wandered through the crowd, he noticed that Angel was back in her place tending bar. He instinctively began to wonder where Jack was, if he was still in his office, and what he was doing, but Rhys forced those thoughts out of his head. At least, he tried focusing more on work, until the club owner decided to make another appearance. 

Jack stood directly outside of his office, arms folded as he leaned back against the closed door, watching Rhys with a predatory glare. He made no move to approach the dancer again, but that stare was completely unnerving. As hard as Rhys tried to ignore him, he couldn't help glancing over in Jack's direction, wondering if the owner was still watching him. Every time, the answer was yes. Rhys immediately pulled his eyes away, face heating up as they accidentally made eye contact. 

He had been able to handle Jack's anger during the performance, but now, that piercing gaze was enough to make Rhys want to put on another costume. After giving a couple lap dances, he returned to the dressing room to change his clothes. The dancer didn't see this as a defeat, though. He felt pretty damn pleased with himself, that he was seemingly able to get under Jack's skin so effectively. 

By the time Rhys’ next performance came up, Jack had retreated back into his office, but Rhys kept up his confident act. He was feeling pretty good about himself, and this new attitude was earning him decent tips. If Jack happened to leave his office again and see, then that would just be a nice bonus. 

As the night went on, Rhys could easily see that he had no need for those initial worries at the start of his shift. He made some good money and managed to avoid any incident with Jack, though no thanks to his own antics. 

Once his shift had ended, however, Angel pulled him aside again before he left to go home for the night. 

“That stunt you pulled today - I wouldn't do that again,” she warned. 

“Oh, did I hurt Jack's precious little feelings?” Rhys mocked. “Good.” 

“I'm serious, Rhys. He wasn't happy.” Her voice was gentle, as always, yet stern. “I did what I could to calm him down this time, but I don't know what could happen if you keep pushing your luck.” 

Rhys folded his arms over his chest, knowing that Angel was right. He had seen some pretty shocking incidents, where Jack wasn't afraid to lay his hands on his customers, despite having his own bouncer. 

“Hey, so what's his deal with the cowgirl thing, anyway?” Rhys asked. “I know his ex liked to wear it, but so what?” 

“It didn't end well between them. Jack and Nisha had a lot in common, so it hurt when she left so suddenly,” Angel explained. “You know that Up Over Bar? It's run by a woman named Moxxi - Jack also used to be… _involved_ with her.” 

Against all logic, Rhys’ gut sank at the mention of Jack's ex-girlfriends. He was the one who asked about it in the first place, and he knew that a guy like Jack probably had models and hotshots fawning over him left and right, but Rhys still felt a sinking self-doubt to hear it coming from someone else. It was no use getting jealous over a man he never slept with - especially now that he hated Jack - but Rhys still couldn't shake that feeling. 

“Anyway,” Angel continued, “Moxxi offered Nisha a job, and she took it, just like that. Jack trusted her, and she crushed him.” 

“That doesn't give him a pass to be an asshole,” Rhys huffed. 

“Of course not,” she quickly agreed. “But Jack has always been emotionally closed off, ever since Mom passed away. Add a few terrible exes to the mix, and you get… this.” Angel sighed, shaking her head. 

So that answered Rhys’ question about Angel’s mother. Learning all this information about Jack almost made Rhys feel a little sorry for him. However, he quickly reminded himself of the reason why he was mad at Jack, and any pity went straight out the window. 

Once again, Rhys thanked Angel for everything, then made his way out to the car. On his way home, he made a mental note to add “Up Over Bar” on the list of places to send his résumé. 

\---- 

BONUS SCENE: 

As the owner of Hyperion, Jack had no obligation to come to work, but failing to show up because of one skinny dancer was like an admission of defeat. Jack refused to show any weakness by staying at home, so instead, he decided to just hide in his office the entire night. 

However, as Jack was playing on his phone, pretending to look over his budgeting spreadsheet, a particular tune playing in the bar caught his ear: 

_Well I walk into the room, passing out hundred dollar bills, and it kills, and it thrills, like the horns on my Silverado grill._

Now that was an unusual song to hear in this club. This wasn't exactly the country music kind of crowd, so it immediately roused Jack's suspicions. He thoughtfully rested his chin in his hand, finger absently tapping against his cheek as he listened to the music, wondering what idiot chose to dance to this crappy song, and why. 

His gut twisted into knots as he realized Nisha’s cowgirl suit was never thrown away, but most of the dancers knew better than to pull that sort of stunt. There was no way someone could have suddenly felt the need to put that old thing on, right under Jack's nose. Surely, he was only getting worked up over nothing. 

But then, the gears clicked into place - Rhys _was_ stupid enough to try something stupid like this, especially since he was clearly angry at Jack. Just for his own peace of mind, the club owner stood from his desk and threw the door open to see it was just as he had feared - Rhys somehow managed to squeeze his gangly ass into Nisha’s skimpy cowgirl outfit. 

That little shit. He knew damn well what he was doing. Jack didn't care how fantastic that kid’s ass looked in those bare-bottom chaps. He was furious. As Rhys glanced in Jack's direction, the club owner wanted nothing more than to slap that smug, idiotic grin off the dancer’s face. Jack could tell that Rhys was even dancing more obscenely than usual, getting up close and personal with the patrons. 

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Jack clenched his fists and began advancing on the stage, until a quick yank on his coat sleeve turned him around, bringing him face to face with his daughter. 

“Stay out of my way,” he hissed. 

“Or else what?” she challenged. “Think about what you're doing.” 

“Me? What about him?!” Jack angrily nodded to the stage. “He's purposely doing this to spite me.” 

“Then congratulations to Rhys. He clearly succeeded.” Angel grabbed her father's arm and began dragging him back to his office. 

“You don't think I can just let him get away with this, do you?” 

Once the door was shut behind them, Angel released Jack and folded her arms as she looked at him with a frown. “Yes, I do. From what I've heard, it's the least you deserve.” 

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Wanna run that by me again, princess?” 

_”You deserve it,”_ she repeated more clearly, with emphasis. 

“Watch it, now.” He raised a finger in warning. 

“You called him a whore, Jack.” She rarely called him Dad anymore, and it stung every time. 

“If that's what he told you, then he's a crappy little liar, because I never said that.” 

“Not in those exact words, but you implied it. Don't play dumb. You know what you said.” 

“It was supposed to be funny!” Jack turned to sit back down at his desk with a scoff. “Not my problem the kid can't take a joke.” 

“You do this all the time. Whenever someone gets close, you push them away,” Angel pointed out. “It's why your second marriage failed, and probably why Nisha left you too. You’ll always be alone, and it's completely your own fault.” 

Jack glared at her and opened his mouth to speak, but Angel cut him off and continued, “Rhys is a good person. He deserves a hell of a lot better than you.” 

She turned and left the office to make sure she got the last word in, letting Jack simmer in her accusations. He hadn't meant to hurt Rhys like that. Only an idiot would cockblock himself so badly. Jack just wanted to make sure the kid didn't make a bigger deal out of this than it was, and it wasn't Jack's fault if Rhys took his words so personally. 

Jack was extremely rich and good-looking. Rhys should have felt lucky to be given a chance with him. _It's his loss,_ Jack tried to convince himself, yet he still found himself wandering out of his office once again. He leaned against the door, easily spotting Rhys, who flirted around the bar in that cowgirl outfit to try and earn more money. 

Dancers were a dime a dozen. Just one guy shouldn't have made any difference to Jack, yet as he stood in his club, he couldn't take his eyes off Rhys. He had absolutely no clue what made this kid so special, but whatever it was, Jack felt a new resolve to try and make things better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update already, say whaaaaaaat!! And yeah I know this fic is mainly Rhys' POV, which is pretty different for me. I'm so used to writing for Jack, I couldn't resist adding a little blurb on him at the end there 8u


	12. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack really sucks at apologizing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, no use keeping it secret since I'm sure you all saw the rating change this chapter, so. FINALLY. Your patience has been rewarded. What a slow burn. Damn. But THANK YOU everyone for reading this far and being patient when I took a little longer with updates. I do appreciate all of you and I try to show that by replying to all your comments. But for those quiet readers out there, know that I appreciate you too!!!! Hope this was worth the wait! I know it was for Rhys~ ;D

The next evening, Rhys returned to work to find a vase of flowers sitting in front of his mirror. There was a note that simply read, _”I didn't mean to call you a whore.”_

It was unsigned, but Rhys knew who it was from. He was shocked that Jack would bother with an apology, even if it was a shitty one. It was cold and completely thoughtless, and it only made Rhys angry. He ripped the note to shreds and dumped the flowers in the trash. When the other dancers asked about it, Rhys brushed it off as a creepy customer from the other night. 

But that excuse wouldn’t work the second evening, when Rhys found his vanity covered in flowers and boxes of chocolates. He didn't even bother to look for a note this time. Instead, he just loaded up Axton like a pack mule and took everything to the dumpster out back. Though, Rhys did save one box of truffles for himself. They looked too good to throw away, and Jack didn't need to know. 

Of course, his coworkers had many questions about the large display of gifts, but Rhys still refused to give any information. 

On the third day, Rhys found one small, black velvet box accompanied by another note, which said, _”I'm sorry, all right?”_

At least he said “sorry” this time, but once again, the apology seemed empty, and even aggressive. It made Rhys want to just throw away that box without even looking, but his curiosity got the best of him. He looked inside and found a pair of silver cufflinks framing an onyx stone with diamond studs. Part of him felt like he ought to be impressed, but his fist clenched around the box and he stormed out of the dressing room, straight to Jack's office. 

As the door opened, Jack looked up just in time to see the black box slammed down on his desktop. With a raised eyebrow, he simply commented, “What, are you more of a gold kind of guy? ‘Cause this is non-refundable, sweetheart.” 

“Unbelievable!” Rhys fumed, throwing his arms in the air. “You know, I'm not surprised you suck at apologies, but this? After everything, you're _still_ trying to pay for me to have sex with you!” 

“Is that what you think?” The club owner seemed genuinely surprised by Rhys’ accusation. 

“What else do you call it? The flowers, chocolates, and now this?” Rhys haphazardly waved a hand towards the cufflinks on Jack's desk. 

“I call it trying to _apologize,_ asshole!” Jack angrily stood up, nearly growling in frustration. “Those cufflinks cost me 300 friggin’ bucks, so I don't know what the hell else you want from me!” 

Rhys knit his eyebrows together as he looked over Jack. He could tell the man really believed he was making an effort, yet had no idea what he actually needed to do. With a sigh, Rhys forced himself to continue more calmly, “You can't always just throw money at a problem and expect it to go away.” 

“The hell I can't. It's worked great for me so far.” 

Rhys disagreed on that point, but he wasn't about to argue or bring up Jack's emotional issues. “It won't work with me,” he insisted. “I already told you, I don't need your money to impress me. I just want _you._ ” He faltered a moment, then added, “At least, I thought I did.” 

Jack paused for a moment, looking as though he was struggling a bit. “Listen, I could go out there and pick up any hottie I want.” 

Clearly offended, Rhys opened his mouth to protest, but was quickly interrupted by Jack again, “No, shut up, hear me out.” 

The dancer had never heard any apology that started with “shut up,” and he had half a mind to just walk out again. But he could see it in Jack's face that this was difficult for the man, so Rhys decided to humor him a bit longer. 

“Yeah, I could pick up any hottie, but point is - I'm not. I'm here, talking to you, trying to make it right. It would be a hell of a lot easier to move on to someone else, but for some reason, I decided to put myself through this hell and try to actually apologize, which, by the way, I _never_ do. Like, ever.” 

Rhys folded his arms over his chest as he listened, still feeling a bit skeptical about all this. “Why me, though? What makes me so special? And how do I know you're not gonna move on and get tired of me once you finally get your way?” 

“That's what the $300 cufflinks were trying to say. I don't spend that much on a one-time thing. I thought this was just gonna be casual sex, but… I don't know.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh as he tried to carefully choose his words. “I don't know why I care, but I do, and holy shit I can't believe I'm saying this - if it makes you feel better, we can take it slow.” 

“What, seriously?” Rhys’ eyes widened when he heard that last part. 

Jack nodded. “If that's what it takes to prove I mean it, then yeah.” 

“Wow, Jack, that's… That's actually kind of sweet.” Rhys smiled a little as he moved closer and pulled Jack into a quick kiss. “But we've already taken it slow enough, don't you think?” 

Rhys didn't know what suddenly came over him. Just a moment ago, he was furious with Jack, but now, all he wanted was to have the other man all to himself. Despite the crappy attempt at an apology, it did feel nice to be so wanted by such a powerful, good-looking man. 

At the invitation, Jack tightly held Rhys in place and responded with a more eager, hungrier kiss. He began to push Rhys back against the desktop, but the dancer suddenly froze and gently pushed Jack away. 

“W-wait, hang on, is the door locked?” 

As he pulled away, Jack gave Rhys a light pat on the bottom. “Hang tight, kiddo. And pants off.” 

The older man crossed the room to turn the lock on the doorknob, and meanwhile, Rhys quickly worked on getting undressed - a skill he had mastered since his employment at Hyperion. By the time Jack returned, he was left in just his unbuttoned shirt, superhero briefs, and brightly colored stockings. He leaned back against the desk, expecting to continue where they left off, but one look at the dancer and Jack immediately burst into laughter. 

“What is… Holy crap, is that Captain America?!” 

Rhys frowned at Jack. “What's wrong with it?” 

“Nothing, for a twelve year old.” 

“You know, maybe we should take it slow after all,” Rhys grumbled as he began to move away. 

“No, Rhysie. Rhys, come on,” Jack pleaded, reaching out for him. “It's just another reason to get those things off as soon as possible, yeah?” 

“You're an asshole, you know that?” Rhys pouted, but didn't make any attempt to pull away. 

“I know. And I suck at apologies. But you know what I'm really, really good at?” Jack leaned in close to leave a trail of kisses and gentle bites along Rhys’ neck. “Lemme make it up to you, sweetheart.” 

The dancer responded with a pleased sigh as he tilted his head, inviting more attention from Jack. He allowed the older man to nudge him back against the desk again, resting his weight back on one hand while the other slid its way up through Jack's hair. 

As Jack began kissing lower down Rhys’ torso, he sat in his office chair and ran his hands up along the younger man's thighs. Rhys was already rock hard, and there was no way Jack hadn't noticed already, especially now that he was seated nearly eye-level with the dancer's groin, yet he still continued to take his time, brushing his lips along Rhys’ hip bone. 

Suddenly, Jack paused to focus attention specifically on one area, right above the waistband. Rhys felt a sharp pinching sensation as he realized his boss sucked a noticeable bruise onto his skin. 

“Hey! You know I take my clothes off for a living, right?” he pouted. 

“So what? Let them see.” Jack leaned down, kissing up along Rhys’ thigh. “Let ‘em be jealous as they realize you belong to someone else.” 

Rhys whined softly as Jack continued to give attention everywhere except the one place he wanted it. The club owner paused again to leave a second mark high on Rhys’ thigh, making sure other people would know what the dancer had been up to. 

“Jack, please…” Rhys gasped as he nudged his hips forward. 

“Mm, fine. I'm sick of looking at these ugly things,” the older man replied as he began to yank down Rhys’ underwear. 

“Much better,” Jack added with a grin once the briefs were out of the way. He finally reached forward and took Rhys’ length in a light grip, eyes shifting upward to watch the younger man's face as he began slowly stroking. The dancer shuddered and nearly bucked up into Jack's hand as he felt the older man's thumb firmly rub against the head. 

“This what you wanted, pumpkin?” 

Trying not to be too loud, Rhys simply bit his lip and nodded eagerly. 

“Really? Just a quick handie and that's it?” Jack teased. 

“N-no!” Rhys quickly gasped in response. “I mean, yeah, this is good, but I want… I need more.” 

“Now look who's greedy.” Jack smirked as he leaned down and slowly dragged his tongue along the shaft. 

Rhys bit down on a knuckle, breath hitching as he tried his hardest to stifle a moan. He feared the staff might hear as they set up the club for the night, but keeping quiet proved to be a difficult task as Jack slid his lips over the tip, sucking gently. Rhys tightly gripped the edge of the desk, trying so hard not to eagerly thrust up into Jack's mouth. 

The older man finally moved his head lower, bobbing in a slow steady rhythm. He glanced up at Rhys again, smirking around his cock as he continued moving his head lower, until his nose was buried in those dark, curly hairs. It was impossible to keep silent as Jack swallowed around his length. Rhys’ head fell back as he gave a low, desperate moan. 

After a moment, Jack slowly pulled off, but continued working his tongue over Rhys as he gently nudged the dancer further back on the desk. Rhys allowed Jack to guide him, but kept himself propped up on his elbows so he could continue to watch. The older man continued lower between Rhys’ legs until his tongue prodded against his entrance. 

Thankfully, the music in the club began to play as they finally opened for business. The bass thumped through the walls into the office, so Rhys felt a bit more comfortable responding with a louder groan. Jack threw Rhys’ legs over his shoulders as he continued lapping hungrily with his tongue, then finally began to push past that tight ring of flesh. 

Rhys breathily gasped the other man's name as he rolled his hips forward, eager for more. After a bit longer, however, Jack began to slow down as he reached over to open a desk drawer. He groped around blindly for a moment, but eventually pulled off Rhys completely. 

“No don't-- Don't stop,” the dancer gasped. 

“Hold tight, kiddo.” Jack paused to wipe his mouth with the back of a hand as he looked in the drawer, then pulled out a bottle of lube. He spread the liquid over his fingers, then began to press one into Rhys. “Better?” 

With an eager nod, Rhys spread his legs further for Jack as he pushed down against his hand. “More…” he demanded. 

Jack gladly added a second finger, but continued moving slowly and carefully as he readied the younger man. Rhys gave another moan as he reached up to grab the edge of the desk just behind his head for leverage as he rocked his hips in time with Jack. Before long, the older man hooked his fingers inside Rhys just the right way, causing the dancer to arch his back with a louder moan. 

“Jack, right there! Like that…!” Rhys pleaded, but was answered only by Jack pulling his hand away. Confused, Rhys leaned up, watching the other man in a daze. 

“Can't have you finish too soon, babycakes,” Jack explained as he finally tugged his own pants to his knees and coated his arousal with lube. 

Rhys spread his legs further and licked his lips in anticipation as he watched Jack move into place and slowly push himself inside. The dancer's head fell back with a pleased groan as he felt his boss fill him up. 

Once he was fully inside, Jack gave a relieved sigh and paused for a moment to give Rhys time to adjust. “Doing all right there, kiddo?” 

Rhys quickly nodded as he wrapped his legs around Jack's waist to keep him close. “Y-yeah, Jack, don't stop, please. I need you so bad,” he mumbled between breaths. 

“You don't know how long I've been wanting this, pumpkin,” Jack replied in a low, husky voice as he slowly rolled his hips. “Ever since I saw you dance with Tim-- No, before that, even.” 

“Me too,” Rhys gasped as he dug his heels into Jack's lower back, urging him on. “So quit stalling and fuck me already.” 

Jack chuckled softly as he leaned down over Rhys, kissing along his neck. “You got nerve, kiddo. I like that.” He slowly started to pull away, then quickly thrust back into Rhys, earning a sharp gasp from the dancer. 

As he began a steady pace, Jack leaned up again to get a better view, watching the younger man writhe beneath him. “Shit, Rhysie. You look so damn good like this.” 

The younger man was unable to reply. He simply gave a soft, approving moan as he rocked his hips as best as he could to meet Jack's rhythm. As they picked up the pace, the older man situated one of Rhys’ legs over his shoulder once again and leaned forward over the desk, finding a good angle so that he could thrust hard and deep. 

Rhys reached out for Jack, grabbing whatever part of him he could reach as their movements became more desperate and erratic. As they found the right angle, Rhys jerked his hips with a loud groan, absently mumbling words of encouragement to the other man. 

“So… so close! Jack!” the dancer managed to gasp as he desperately held onto his boss, fingernails digging into his back. 

“Come on, baby,” Jack gasped as he slid a hand between them and took Rhys’ length into his grip, stroking in time with their thrusts. “Come for me, Rhysie.” 

Between Jack's words and his touch, it didn't take much longer for Rhys to hit his peak, spilling into Jack's hand with a choked cry. The older man slowed down his movements for him, stroking him through the orgasm. “Good boy,” he praised, watching Rhys with a smirk. 

Once the dancer was taken care of, Jack thrust into him again just a few more times before finally releasing as well. He plopped back into his desk chair and tugged Rhys into his lap. The dancer loosely draped his arms over Jack’s neck, happy to be held close as his boss peppered his neck and jawline with kisses. 

However, the blissful moment came skidding to a halt as Rhys froze, eyes widening with a sudden realization. “My shift…! Holy crap, I am _so_ late!” 

“What's wrong? Worried the boss is gonna chew you out?” Jack smirked as he playfully gave Rhys’ ass a squeeze. “You're a friggin’ mess, kiddo. And good luck trying to dance with a funny limp. Take the rest of the night off.” 

“I need the money, Jack,” Rhys said with a frown. 

“Well how much do you usually get in tips?” Jack moved as if he was reaching for his wallet. “I'd say you just earned a bonus.” 

Rhys looked as though he was trying to burn a hole into Jack's skull with his eyes. “What the hell, Jack?! You know, you're a real piece of work.” 

“Relax, sweetheart, it's a joke!” The club owner gave Rhys’ thigh a reassuring pat. “I'm screwing with you.” 

“Real funny,” Rhys grumbled, but remained close, resting his head on Jack's shoulder. 

“Look, if missing one day bugs you that much, just make up for it on your next day off,” Jack offered. “How's that?” 

The dancer sighed, but nodded in agreement. Despite his worries about money, Rhys was actually grateful at the offer to take the night off. The exhaustion was really starting to kick in, and once he finally pulled away from Jack to clean up, he was already starting to feel sore as well. 

As they both finished putting their clothes back on, Jack leaned back in his chair, watching Rhys with a satisfied grin. “So I take it that was an acceptable apology?” 

Rhys replied with a smile as he leaned down to give Jack a soft kiss. “I'm all yours, handsome.”


	13. Flattery Always Works

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys finally convinces Vaughn and his friends to come meet Jack for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SOOOOOO sorry for making you all wait so long, but when I said I won't abandon this, I meant it!
> 
> I just hadn't really thought much further about what I'll do after they bone, and before I could figure it out, FFXV hit me like a truck. So it's all my fault and I am soooorryy, but I've got a neat little plot roughly outlined now, so let's do thiiiiissss!

In the following days, Rhys did receive a few voicemails responding to some of those applications he submitted, including that other club, but he didn’t hesitate to delete every message. He was still perfectly happy at Hyperion, especially now that his relationship progressed with Jack, and he was noticeably in a much better mood, overall. His coworkers noticed, the club patrons noticed, but most importantly, his roommate noticed.

As he made lunch for himself one afternoon, Rhys flitted back and forth in the small kitchen, humming to himself as he collected the various supplies he needed to make a sandwich. He couldn't seem to sit still, happily swaying in place as he put his food together and returned the ingredients back to their original spaces. 

Vaughn glanced over at him and curiously raised an eyebrow. “You've been acting real weird lately. It's kinda creeping me out.” 

“What? I'm in a good mood,” Rhys replied as he grabbed his sandwich and plopped down on the couch next to his friend. “Why’s that so weird?” 

Instead of answering, Vaughn paused a moment to study Rhys as he took a sloppy bite out of his sandwich. “Bro,” he cautiously spoke up, “tell me you didn't.” 

“Dint whah?” Rhys asked around a mouthful of food. 

“Please tell me you didn't sleep with Jack.” 

“Okay, I won't tell you,” Rhys casually said as he took another bite. 

“Rhys!” Vaughn groaned. “Did you?!” 

“Now I'm confused. You wanna know, or not?” 

Vaughn had a pained look in his eyes, like he wanted to remain blissfully ignorant, yet knew he needed to hear the painful truth. “Just tell me.” 

“No, I didn't,” Rhys said as he finished the rest of his sandwich. Vaughn gave a heavy, relieved sigh, but Rhys continued, “There was definitely no sleeping.” 

“Rhys…” Vaughn began in a stern tone. 

“Mostly just in his office, bent over his desk…” 

“Oh god!” the shorter man exclaimed, jumping to his feet as he covered his ears. “I can't know this!” 

“You asked, bro,” Rhys shrugged. 

Vaughn threw his arms in the air and began pacing. “I can't believe you're this stupid! From the very beginning, I said this was a bad idea. I didn't even want you working there, and now you're _banging your boss?!_ Your very unstable, crazy, asshole boss! Or did you already forget what he said to you?” 

“He apologized. I mean, he was really bad at it, at first, and I threw out all the flowers he left for me--” 

“Hold up,” Vaughn interrupted. “There were flowers?” 

“Yeah, and super-expensive cufflinks which I literally almost threw at his face, but…” As Rhys trailed off, a goofy smile spread over his face. “He showed me he really does care.” 

_”Broooooo,”_ Vaughn groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead, “I don't know what dream world you're living in, but you've got to snap out of it.” 

“Dude, come on, you've never even met the guy.” Rhys’ eyes suddenly widened as he was hit with an idea. “Yeah, hey, that's not such a bad idea! Why don't you come by the club tonight and see for yourself?” 

Vaughn anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “I don't know…” 

“And bring Yvette, Fiona, Sasha...! Bring everyone!” Rhys continued. “You can see what I do, and meet everyone else. I told you about Angel, right? She's great. I think you guys will really get along.” 

“Bro,” Vaughn flatly replied, “None of us want to see your junk flailing around everywhere.” 

Rhys simply rolled his eyes. “You don't see _that_ much. So come on, I think it would be really great if you all came to show support.” 

“You _know_ I don't support this, but fine,” Vaughn sighed in defeat. “I'll call the girls and we'll try to be there.” 

Rhys lowered his voice in a gruff, throaty tone and said, “Do, or do not. There is no try.” 

“You still can't pull that off.” Vaughn shot him one last unamused look before disappearing into his bedroom. 

Rhys also returned to his own room and spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready for work. He was so excited by the idea that his friends might finally come and visit him. It might be a little awkward dancing around nearly naked in front of them, but Rhys had become proud of his work. He had come a long way since he began, and felt like he was pretty darn good at his job. 

When he finally arrived at work, Jack wasn't there yet. Rhys reminded himself that he shouldn't be so focused on that, anyway, since they were still trying to keep their relationship low-profile. However, unknown to Rhys, the others had already begun whispering behind his back. The two men weren't very subtle in their flirtations, yet they still maintained the idea that they had successfully kept their intimacy a secret, and would prefer to keep it that way. 

So, when Jack finally did arrive, Rhys kept to his own business and focused on preparing for the first customers of the night. At least, he tried to focus, but the hope of seeing his friends at the club had distracted Rhys a bit more than he expected. He kept glancing to the door, and even when he was performing on stage, seemed a bit less attentive to the customers than usual. 

Finally, as he was out on the floor trying to half-assedly sell a lapdance, Rhys spotted Vaughn and the girls as they stepped in and hesitantly looked for someplace to sit. Sasha was accompanied by August, who looked the most comfortable out of all of them. He quickly spotted an open table with enough chairs and led the others inside. 

Before they could even sit down, Rhys already swooped towards them and casually leaned against the table as he pretended to flirt. “Twenty bucks for a lapdance,” he playfully offered, “or I can get you the group discount if you all buy one.” 

Vaughn looked mortified, Sasha giggled, but Yvette and Fiona just looked unamused. August was already distracted by Maya’s performance on stage. 

“Cute,” Fiona said flatly. “If I give you a dollar, will you go away?” 

Vaughn’s face turned bright pink as he eyed over his friend. “ _What_ are you wearing?” 

At the moment, Rhys wore a see-through white blouse with the ends tied up near his chest, exposing his entire midriff. He wore a red plaid, pleated skirt that was so short, it left nearly half his ass exposed, and the g-strings of a little black thong poked out from his waistband and ran over his hips. He also wore sheer thigh-high stockings, ending in buckled pumps to show off his legs even better. 

“Oh this?” Rhys gave a slow spin to show off his outfit. “The customers love it. I'm the only guy here who can pull it off.” 

Sasha finally noticed August staring at Maya and gave him a rough jab to his ribs. He grinned sheepishly and slipped an arm around her as he turned his attention back to the group. 

“Not bad, Shanks,” August spoke up. “This place is pretty classy, for a strip joint. Never been here. I usually hit up Moxxi’s Up Over Bar a few blocks down.” After another glare from both Sasha and Fiona, he quickly added, “I mean, what's a strip club? Never been in one of those before.” 

“I'll admit, this is a little nicer than what I expected,” Yvette sighed. 

“But we still really want you to get a better job,” Vaughn chimed in. 

“I'm doing really well here. You'll see,” Rhys replied. “What are you guys drinking? I'll have Angel bring it out to you.” 

“Can we get your ‘I'm screwing the boss’ discount?” Fiona smirked, earning a big pout from Rhys. 

“I’ll take a vodka tonic,” Yvette ordered. “Put it on Vaughn’s tab. He owes me for coming out tonight.” 

Knowing better than to try and get out of covering Yvette’s bill yet again, Vaughn simply rolled his eyes and accepted his fate. “Just a Coke for me, please.” 

After the others placed their orders, Rhys happily scampered over to the bar and placed his friends’ orders. He explained the situation to Angel, who seemed more than happy to meet Rhys’ friends. She quickly prepared the drinks and brought them over to Rhys and his friends. 

“So nice to finally meet you all,” Angel piped up once Rhys finished with introductions. 

“Likewise. Rhys has the nicest things to say about you,” Vaughn replied. “Thanks for looking out for him.” 

“Too bad he's dating your dad instead of you,” Fiona sassed. 

Rhys’ ears turned bright red at that comment. “Come on, Fi…” 

Thankfully, Angel took the comment well. She giggled softly in response and replied, “Don’t look at me. I did try to warn him against Jack since day one.” 

“See?” Vaughn added. “Even Angel thinks you should get the hell out.” 

“Guys…” Rhys groaned with a pout. “I'm _fine._ I promise.” 

Before Vaughn could plead with Angel to talk sense into Rhys, his jaw suddenly snapped shut and his eyes widened as he looked past Rhys. The whole group seemed to fall silent as the dancer felt a large hand press down on his shoulder. 

“Who the hell is keeping my bartender from serving our customers?” Jack's familiar voice easily projected to the whole group, even with the booming club music. “No one told me we had V.I.P.s tonight.” 

Angel looked at her father, eyebrows knit together in concern. She also had one of Jack's hands resting on her shoulder, but the grip seemed tighter than what he had on Rhys. 

“It's my fault,” she said apologetically. “I heard Rhys’ friends were here, so I wanted to meet them.” 

“Your friends?” Jack paused for just a brief moment as he glanced at Rhys, but it was enough time for everyone to feel the weight of his commanding presence. Knowing his boss had quite a temper on top of an unpredictable nature, Rhys tensed up and swallowed thickly, terrified of the horrible first impression Jack might leave with his friends. After all Rhys’ promises that everything was fine, he was about to ruin all of it by accidentally getting Angel into trouble. 

“Shit, kiddo, why didn't you tell me?” Jack grinned and removed Angel and Rhys from his grip as he pulled a chair up to the table and invited himself to sit with the group. Meanwhile, Angel took the opportunity to finally return to the bar. “Name’s Jack, but Rhysie here probably told you all about me already.” 

Rhys gave a nervous, relieved chuckle as Jack reached out and pulled the dancer into his lap. 

“Oh, he sure has,” Vaughn nervously replied. “Maybe even a little too much.” 

“Yeah? That's funny, ‘cause I never heard a word about any of you,” Jack countered, though he kept on smiling. 

“Jaaaack…” Rhys muttered in a soft, warning tone. 

As the club owner scanned the group, he paused on Fiona, who met his gaze with stern, narrow eyes. “Hey,” he spoke after a beat. “Nice hat.” 

“Uh, thanks?” She raised an eyebrow, seeming a bit underwhelmed by the compliment. 

“So which one of you is the roommate?” Jack continued. 

Vaughn hesitantly raised a hand. “That's me.” 

“This dude, seriously?” Jack chuckled to himself. “Are you even tall enough to be in here?” 

That earned a laugh from August, but Rhys gave Jack a little nudge. “Please try to be nice?” the dancer whispered to Jack. “Please?” 

“Can they?” Jack hissed back. 

From the moment the club owner joined the group, there was a thick tension in the air. It was clear that Rhys’ friends gave him a cold, unwelcoming reception, but that was hardly enough to chase Jack away. 

But suddenly, the mood seemed to shift as Sasha finally spoke up, “This is such a nice club, very tasteful. Much better than that other one, what was it called? The ‘Up Over Bar’?” 

August raised an eyebrow in confusion at Sasha’s sudden shift in attitude, but the other ladies quickly caught on. “That trashy place?” Fiona chimed in. “It's not even in the same league as Hyperion.” 

Jack grinned proudly as the women complimented his club. “Your friends have good taste, Rhysie.” 

“‘Hyperion,’ just like the Greek Titan,” Yvette added. “A good, strong name, and very fitting, seeing as it’s run by such a ‘titan’ of a businessman.” 

“Smart girl,” Jack beamed. “I like her.” 

“Jack, I have to admit,” Fiona leaned in closer, giving him a warm smile. “I'm impressed. Even that liquor selection behind the bar... I've never seen a gentlemen's club stock up on such high-quality alcohol.” 

Sasha nodded in agreement. “Wish I could try it,” she replied with a sigh. “I'm totally broke right now.” 

“Hey, now, Rhysie’s friends don't drink bottom-shelf garbage in _my_ club,” Jack interrupted. “And what are you doing sitting at this crappy table? You're our special guests tonight. Rhys!” He gave the dancer’s rear a light pat. “Get them to a V.I.P. booth. I’ll grab the liquor.” 

Rhys was so eager to believe that his friends were finally getting along with Jack, that he completely missed the low-five exchanged between Sasha and Fiona under the table. The dancer jumped to his feet and excitedly ushered his friends to a booth near the stage. 

As Jack returned with a fancy-looking bottle of tequila from a brand Rhys had never even heard of, the dancers changed on stage, and Rhys recognized that it would soon be his own turn. He turned to the club owner with a gentle smile, wanting so badly to give him a kiss on the cheek, but he reminded himself to hold back from any public displays of affection. 

“Well, I’m on deck,” he announced to the group. “So, everyone play nice while I’m gone!” 

“You- you’re leaving us?” Vaughn stammered. “With Jack?” 

“Just don't miss my set, okay?” 

Rhys hurried back to the dressing room and quickly prepared for his performance. He changed into a simple sheer blue babydoll top with feathered trim that hung loosely on his form, lacy blue panties underneath, and heels. He anxiously waited near the back of the stage for the song to finish, and when he heard the DJ call him to the stage, Rhys squinted in the spotlight as he immediately looked for his friends. Jack seemed to be casually chatting away, while Vaughn still seemed uncomfortable. The women, though, seemed perfectly happy to enjoy their fancy tequila. 

The music began to play and Rhys began his routine, starting out slowly as he rolled his hips against the pole. It didn't take long before patrons at the edge of the stage began to set down dollar bills for the dancer. Rhys gave his tippers plenty of attention, but when he turned around to dance for the other side of the stage, he spotted two familiar faces giggling and waving a wad of money towards him. 

Sasha and Yvette beckoned Rhys closer, and he was happy to oblige. He knelt down in front of them, and Sasha slid a hand under the top and slipped a couple bills under the waistband of Rhys’ panties. Yvette covered her mouth and began laughing even harder as Rhys danced for them. 

As he returned to the pole, he glanced at the table again. Jack had stopped talking, eyes fixed on the stage. Vaughn looked stunned, Fiona had half her face covered by her hand, and August looked happily plastered already. 

As the dance went on, Rhys pulled off his top and continued in just the tiny panties and heels. He ran through all the best moves he knew, including a few new tricky stunts on the pole that he had recently learned. When he was finished, he picked up his top along with the rest of his tips and hurried off the stage, eager to return to his friends. 

“So, what did you think?” Rhys grinned widely as he slid into the booth. 

The girls teasingly whistled and laughed, but Vaughn just gave him a nervous frown. 

“Bro, that was too weird,” Vaughn replied, shaking his head. 

“Yeah?” Jack glared pointedly at the smaller man. “What's so weird about Rhys? Not good-looking enough for ya?” 

“Wh- what?!” Vaughn stammered. “No, I mean-- He's _Rhys._ We're like brothers!” 

“Good,” Jack's glare faded to a sly grin. “‘Cause I don't know how I'd feel about Rhysie living with a guy who has the hots for him.” 

“No, nope!” Vaughn quickly shook his head. “No competition here, I swear.” 

Jack doubled over in laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Get a load of this guy! Did you-- Did you hear that? He thinks he'd be competition! Hoo, boy, that's great. Funny guy. I like you, Shawn.” 

“It's _Vaughn._ ” 

“Sure, whatever you say,” Jack continued and turned to the rest of the group. “Anyway, great to have you all come by, but I gotta get back to work.” He stood from his seat and paused once more to give Rhys a little wink. “Come see me in my office when you're done here.” 

“Looked like you guys were getting along,” Rhys grinned at his friends once Jack left. “What’d you think?” 

“Remember before, when I said you need to find a new job?” Vaughn answered. “Yeah, you need to get the hell out of here.” 

“What?!” Rhys pouted. “I thought you guys were getting along?” 

“Uh, yeah? We got him to give us free liquor,” Fiona smirked. “But the guy’s an arrogant asshole. Can't stand him.” 

“Seriously, Rhys, did you see the way his own daughter acts around him?” Vaughn added. “What's up with that?” 

“Look, I know him better than any of you, okay?” Rhys said with a frustrated sigh. “You don't have to trust him. Just trust _me_ that I know what I'm doing.” 

“He's never gonna listen to us, Vaughn,” Yvette drunkenly mumbled. “Just leave him be!” 

Vaughn finally gave up, at least for now, and Rhys continued to sit with his friends for a little while longer. However, it soon came time for the dancer to get back to work. He couldn't get away with ignoring the patrons for too long, so he said goodbye to his friends as he slipped away to give a lapdance. By the time he finished, his friends were gone. Rhys didn't mind so much, though. The group stayed long enough, and it was getting pretty late. 

Besides, he was eager to see what Jack wanted with him. Rhys was sure he knew what his boss wanted, actually, and he was impatient to give it to him. 

“About time,” Jack greeted once the dancer stepped into his office. He stood from the chair and crossed the room, slipping his arms around Rhys’ waist as he leaned in for a quick kiss. “It's been so hard keeping my hands off you all night.” 

“Why does it even matter?” Rhys whined and draped his arms over Jack's shoulders. “I don't care if they know we're together. Let ‘em talk.” 

“Doesn't seem too professional, pumpkin.” Jack kept Rhys close as he spoke, guiding him towards the desk. 

“Says the man who's about to bend me over and completely wreck me on his desk, at work,” Rhys pointed out with a cocky smirk. 

“Can you blame me?” Jack leaned in closer, kissing along the younger man's neck. “Watching you dancing on that stage, wearing these tiny panties…” He paused to give an impatient groan. “Makes me wanna tear ‘em off you with my teeth.” 

He propped Rhys up on the desk and proceeded to do exactly that. 

*~*~*~* 

Thankfully, Rhys had finished all his performances for the night by the time he went into Jack's office, because his boss kept him in there for the rest of the night. The dancer didn't even realize how much time had passed until the music died down in the club. 

“I should go,” Rhys sighed, resting his head on Jack's shoulder. He had curled up in his boss’ lap, perfectly sated and exhausted. “Don't wanna drive home before I get too tired.” 

“Then don't,” Jack offered. “Come home with me tonight.” 

Rhys instantly perked up, grinning widely. “Wait, seriously?” 

“Yeah. Why not?” 

Rhys leaned in to deeply kiss Jack before jumping to his feet. “Just gonna change back into street clothes. Be right back!” 

He hurried out of the office and back to the dressing room. When he changed back into his jeans and T-shirt, he texted Vaughn that he wouldn't be home all night. Though, he could see his phone had a very low battery. Before returning to Jack, he grabbed his car keys and ran out to the parking lot to grab his portable charger from his car. 

As he paused to unlock his vehicle, Rhys suddenly felt a strong arm grab him from behind. Just as he gasped sharply, his assailant pressed a cloth to his face. Rhys tried to struggle and shout for help, but he suddenly felt dizzy and quickly passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that was rude of me, wasn't it


	14. Head Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys discovers WHO abducted him, but he cannot figure out WHY.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhys, you goon, you weren't kidnapped. You're an adult. You were ABDUCTED. 
> 
> But uh, yeah so it's been drawn to my attention that chloroform rags are basically a myth, but since I'm too lazy to rewrite what I've already done, I'm gonna distract you all by reminding you that Jar Jar Binks exists.
> 
> ENJOY!

Even after the drugs wore off, Rhys slept soundly through morning until almost noon. It was such solid, restful sleep, that he had nearly forgotten what happened the night before. He stretched and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, slowly taking in his surroundings.

He woke on a soft, red mattress that seemed to be in the shape of a heart. The walls were also red, with colorful lights strung around the room. It was, overall, a very gaudy decor that seemed to have a weird circus theme. Jack was a flashy kind of guy, but Rhys never imagined his taste would be _this_ over-the-big-top. 

Suddenly, the events from last night came back to him. Rhys never made it home with Jack. His boss had been waiting for him, but he never went back. Jack must have thought Rhys blew him off. The dancer needed to get back. He needed to get out of here and find Jack. 

_But how_ did _I end up here?_

The last thing he remembered was changing into his street clothes, then running out to the parking lot for just a minute and-- 

“Holy shit,” Rhys gasped aloud in the empty room, but mentally pieced the rest together. _I've been kidnapped?!_

He jolted upright and sprang to his feet, but whatever they used to drug him had left Rhys feeling a bit hung-over. His head throbbed and his stomach twisted in knots, forcing him to sit back down on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands. 

“Easy, there,” a strong, feminine-sounding voice spoke up. 

Apparently, the room wasn't quite as empty as Rhys had thought. A woman rose from an armchair in the corner of the room and grabbed a glass of water from the nightstand as she approached Rhys. This woman had the brightest red hair that he had ever seen, and an intricate pattern of tattoos that peeked out over her chest and down her arm. 

“Here,” she offered the cup to Rhys. “This will help.” 

He took the cup, but although he was dying of thirst, he still hesitantly looked at the clear liquid in the glass. 

“Don't worry. We're not going to drug you… again,” she reassured. 

Rhys defiantly set the glass down and gave her an angry frown. “Who is ‘we’?” 

None of this made any sense to Rhys. This woman didn't look large enough to have kidnapped Rhys all on her own, and she just implied that she wasn't working alone. But why was she being so nice to him, after snatching him out of the parking lot like that? Why kidnap him at all? Rhys was a nobody. He didn't have a lot of money, if it was a ransom they were looking for. He didn't even know who-- 

_Oh no,_ Rhys thought, heart sinking. _Oh no, no no no, they're after Jack’s money._

“I'm Lilith,” the woman answered, though that didn't entirely answer Rhys’ question. “And you've already met Roland. Sort of.” 

“I take it that's the asshole who kidnapped me?” Rhys glared. 

Lilith gave him an apologetic smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. We weren't sure if you'd accept the invitation and didn't want to cause a scene.” 

“So, kidnapping. Yeah, that sounds normal.” 

Before he could get more answers from Lilith, the door opened and another woman entered the room. She wore a tight bodice that accentuated her chest, which was already quite impressive to begin with. If the large amount of cleavage wasn't enough to draw the eye, a cute little heart tattoo made absolutely certain your eyes would be drawn to her chest. It was so distracting, Rhys almost missed the heavy makeup caked onto her face, almost resembling a clown. 

“Mornin’, sugar,” she winked and set a tray of food down on the nightstand. “How’s our little sleeping beauty?” 

“Who the hell are you?” Rhys snapped. These people had been nothing but friendly to him, but he just couldn't get past the whole kidnapping thing long enough to find his manners. 

“Name’s Moxxi,” she said with a wink. “This is my place, the Up-Over Bar. Maybe you've heard of it?” 

“Yeah…” Rhys trailed off thoughtfully, trying to piece together this new information. The place had been mentioned several times to him as Jack’s competition. Still, he didn't know what they could gain by kidnapping him. “Yeah, I know it.” 

“You never called back,” Moxxi continued, “and I just hate being stood up.” 

“What are you--” Rhys paused, suddenly remembering the application he submitted just to spite Jack. “Oh, you mean, the job? Yeah, no thanks. I'm good where I'm at.” 

“That's what we were afraid of,” Lilith sighed. 

“Don't be so quick to turn us down,” Moxxi gave him a little pout. “At least stick around for the tour. But first…” She picked up the tray again and held it out to Rhys. “Lunch time!” 

“No, thank you,” Rhys firmly replied. “I'd like to go home now.” 

He stood up and made his way to the door, but as soon as he tried to leave, a large, muscular man blocked his path. 

Rhys narrowed his eyes, frowning. “Roland, I take it?” 

“Nice to meet you,” he neutrally replied. 

None of this was normal. This couldn't have simply been about Rhys turning down a job interview. They were holding him captive, and he didn't know why. 

Rhys turned back into the room, angrily glaring at Moxxi and Lilith. “What is this, some kind of ransom deal? ‘Cause you do not want to see Jack angry.” 

“Oh, sugar, no,” Moxxi chuckled. “We're swimming in cash. I don't need Jack's dirty money.” 

“Then why?! I don't know what else I can give you!” 

“Like I said, we want to hire you,” Moxxi replied. “And I just hate taking ‘no’ for an answer.” 

“You people are crazy.” 

“Says the kid working for _Jack._ ” 

“At least lemme send a text to my roommate. He'll freak out if he can't get a hold of me.” 

“You'll get your phone back, eventually,” Moxxi said as she sauntered back towards the door with Lilith in tow. “Enjoy your lunch, sugar.” 

She blew a kiss and left the room with the others, leaving Rhys locked inside alone. Still, he didn't touch the food. Being kidnapped really killed his appetite. He flopped facedown on the ridiculous heart-shaped bed and buried his face in the pillow. Rhys had promised Vaughn he'd back out of this before it went too far. He'd absolutely say this counted as “too far,” but it was also too late. Maybe Vaughn was right after all. This would have never happened if Rhys never took that job as a dancer. 

_But why_ me? 

The question repeated itself over and over in his head. If all they wanted was an employee, why would they take Rhys above all the other skilled, experienced dancers? And why did they want him so badly, that they would continue holding him here against his will? 

After a while, however, Rhys couldn't ignore his thirst any longer. If the water was drugged after all, he would just have to take that risk. He gulped down the entire glass in one shot, not realizing exactly how dehydrated he was. Much to his relief, he felt perfectly fine after a few minutes, if not a bit thirsty still. He poked at his food, but it seemed to have already grown cold. 

Just as his stomach started to really growl, Lilith returned with more water for Rhys. He nearly jumped for the glass once she set it down, and gulped it down just as quickly as the one before. 

“I'll have Moxx bring you a pitcher,” Lilith suggested and turned to leave. 

“Wait,” Rhys called out. “You think I could get another sandwich, or some soup or something?” 

Lilith raised an eyebrow, looking between Rhys and the tray of food. “We’re not running a maid service, here.” 

“Yeah, but it's gone cold.” He tried giving the most innocent smile he could manage, one that he had successfully used on clients many times. 

“Really not my problem.” Without another word, she turned heel and left Rhys alone again. 

He groaned and stared at his plate as if his gaze could somehow reheat the food. Maybe if he could just hold off and wait until Moxxi came back, she would give him more food. She seemed much friendlier than Lilith. 

There was no way to tell how much time passed while Rhys was in the room, but he kept himself busy by searching the room for clues, or anything at all that would catch his attention. Aside from a drawer filled with fuzzy handcuffs and other sex toys, which Rhys very quickly slammed shut, there wasn't much else of note in the room. 

When he wasn't being nosy, Rhys tried having a nap. He never could fall back to sleep, but instead spent the time tossing and turning, daydreaming various scenarios where Jack would storm into the club and whisk him away. Jack _had_ to know something was wrong, and Vaughn would be on high alert too. Rhys had no idea how the others would figure out exactly where he was, but he hoped it wouldn’t take them long to solve the mystery. 

Eventually, Rhys was able to hear the dull thumping of music from the club. If the bar was open for business, it must have been nearly evening by now. 

The door to the room finally opened again, and Moxxi, herself entered the room with Roland by her side. “The wait is over, sugar. Ready?” 

“I can go home?” Rhys perked up. 

“Sorry, can't let you go just yet. Not until I've given you the grand tour!” 

Rhys slumped in disappointment, but at least he was getting a chance to do something besides just sitting. Roland was obviously there as an escort to make sure the “prisoner” made no attempt to run, but as long as he wasn't locked up, Rhys might find an opportunity to escape. 

As he followed Moxxi out of the room, Roland stayed close behind, keeping an eye on Rhys. The room led out into a short hallway, with stairs that led down into Moxxi’s office. Rhys couldn't help but wonder what went on here, that someone would need that sort of bedroom attached to their workplace. Even Jack didn't have a set-up like this. But Rhys kept quiet as they continued out into the club. 

The place actually looked better than Rhys expected. It wasn't quite as big as Hyperion, but still had plenty of space. There weren't too many customers this early, aside from a thin man with a beard and dreadlocks sitting at the bar, already well on his way to inebriation. A giant hulk of a man stood at the door, acting as bouncer. He was even bigger than Roland or Wilhelm. Getting past him would be rough. 

But what mostly drew Rhys’ attention was the dancer performing on stage. His eyes widened in recognition as he watched a dark-skinned woman with short dark hair dance on stage, dressed like a cowgirl. This had to be Nisha, from what Rhys heard in the past. The group paused and allowed him to watch as she skillfully danced on stage for the few customers in the club. 

The song ended shortly after, and Nisha hopped off the stage, approaching Rhys with a wide grin. 

“Jack's new plaything, I take it?” 

Rhys frowned, but before he could protest, Moxxi cut in, “Why don't we see if we can't change that? Mind giving him the tour? I've got a bar to run.” 

As Moxxi took her leave, Roland remained in place, standing guard over Rhys. 

Nisha extended a hand as she spoke up, “My name’s--” 

“I know who you are,” Rhys interrupted with an angry glare. 

“Didn't realize I was famous,” she replied with a smirk. 

“Everyone knows what you did to Jack, how you broke his heart and abandoned him to work for Moxxi!” 

“Oh, sweetie,” Nisha chuckled. “Jack doesn't have a heart. Come on, follow me.” 

Roland gave Rhys a little nudge forward as Nisha led the way towards the back of the club, speaking over the music. “Doesn't look like much right now, but it's early. Give it a couple hours, that stage will be covered in dollar bills.” 

She continued into the back, towards the dressing room, where the music was slightly muffled and it was easier to talk. “We have a loyal clientele. If anyone gets too rowdy… That's what Roland and Brick are for.” 

“We guarantee your safety,” Roland reassured. 

“Dude, you _kidnapped_ me,” Rhys countered. 

“So what?” Nisha replied. “You are safe, aren't you? Anyway, come on. I'll show you the dressing room. Way nicer than Hyperion.” 

Rhys continued to follow her lead, still failing to see any opening where he could make a break for it. The dressing room was actually bigger than the one at Hyperion, but that was hardly a selling point that mattered to Rhys. Roland waited just outside the only door, but Lilith was inside, getting herself ready for a performance, along with another man, who wore a skin-tight suit that included a mask over his face. It was kind of creepy, yet intriguing to Rhys. 

The man quietly left the room, but Lilith greeted the two of them with a little smile. “What do you think so far?” 

“I think I made my decision long ago, and none of this is gonna change my mind.” 

“You're the one who contacted us first,” Lilith pointed out. 

“And I changed my mind, so thanks for showing interest, but I'm sure there's plenty of other people who will be happy to take the job.” 

“Why _did_ you submit your application?” Nisha asked. “You were already working at Hyperion, so you weren't unemployed. It's the same kind of work, so it's not like you're trying to get out of the industry. What made you think about running away?” 

Rhys shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Nisha had an almost predatory look in her eyes, like a hunter about to corner her prey. It reminded him too much of Jack. “I-- Does it matter? I just did, and I changed my mind.” 

“It does matter, Rhys,” Nisha continued. “I'm guessing Jack drove you away, yeah?” Rhys didn't have to say a word. By the look on his face, Nisha knew she was right on target. “Bullseye. Jack did or said something way out of line, completely unforgivable, and yet…” 

Rhys swallowed thickly as she moved beside him, resting her hands on his shoulders. 

“And yet,” she continued, “you still forgave him.” 

He jerked himself away and turned to face her with a wide-eyed stare. “Are you people spying on me?!” 

Nisha burst out into laughter. “Oh no, not at all. I don't need to spy on you. I know all too well what's been going on because I've been there too. Sounds like Jack hasn't changed one bit. How unsurprising. You're better off without him, kid. Trust me.” 

Rhys narrowed his eyes in anger again. “You're just jealous, is that it? Pissed it didn't work out between the two of you, so now you wanna break us up?” He folded his arms over his chest with a self-satisfied smirk, believing he just made some great discovery. “Well guess what? If my friends haven't got me to break up with him, then you sure as hell won't.” 

“Your friends?” Lilith cut in. Rhys had almost forgotten she was there, he was so riled up by Nisha. “That's not a good sign if your friends want you to ditch the guy too.” 

Rhys’ smirk quickly melted back into a frown. “It's none of your business, anyway!” 

“Whatever you say,” Nisha held up her hands and backed away. 

The two women remained silent, as though they were purposely letting Rhys process his thoughts for a moment. After a moment, he finally spoke up again, “Why _did_ you leave him?” 

“Jack only cares about two things - money, and himself,” Nisha readily answered. “I got sick of sitting on the back burner all the time. Got into a car accident once. Nothing serious, made it out with just some bumps and bruises. Jack didn't give a damn. It was an inconvenience to him, if anything. But the time his club was vandalized…? You'd have thought someone ran over his puppy.” 

Rhys didn't know how to respond, so he said nothing. Sure, he knew Jack was selfish, but he cared about Rhys, didn't he? But Nisha was the only one who knew Rhys’ situation. She had been in the exact same position, so she knew better than anyone what it was like dating Jack. She could be lying, but Rhys couldn't see what she had to gain by it. 

Nisha let Rhys process the new information before going in for the kill, “He probably doesn't even care that you're gone. Why waste time tracking you down, when he can just move on to the next plaything?” 

The anger returned to Rhys’ eyes as he glared at Nisha. “He's coming for me. Once he figures out who took me, he'll be here. And he'll make you regret ever laying a finger on me.” 

The two women chuckled in response. “If you say so,” Lilith snorted and finally made her way out of the dressing room. 

“Believe what you want,” Nisha shrugged and motioned for Rhys to follow her out of the room as well. “But it'll hurt a lot less if you quit living in your little fantasy world.” 

As they exited the dressing room, Roland stood off to the side, chatting with Lilith. He seemed distracted, leaving Rhys an opening, but a quick glance at the stage drew the dancer’s full attention. The man from the dressing room was still performing, but it almost seemed more like acrobatics than dancing. He was so flexible, and pulled off gravity-defying techniques that Rhys had never seen. 

“Whoa,” Rhys gasped. “He is _so_ cool!” 

“Stage name’s ‘Zer0,’ whatever that's supposed to mean,” Nisha explained. “Come work for us, and I'm sure he'd be happy to teach you some moves.” 

“Me, do _that?_ With him?!” Rhys gaped wide-eyed at the stage. 

“Sure, why not?” 

As the song ended and the dancer left the stage, Nisha called over to him, “Hey, Zer0. New recruit.” 

The man paused to look over Rhys and silently gave a thumbs up before returning to the dressing room. 

“Ohmygodhessocool,” Rhys gasped in one breath. 

“Hey, here's an idea - why don't you go up on stage tonight? Take over my next set.” Nisha suggested. 

“What? No, I can't,” Rhys protested. 

“It'd be great. Give you a chance to feel out the crowd, keep whatever tips you earn…” 

“I don't know,” he hesitated. It would be weird dancing at the rival bar, even if it was just for one song. 

Nisha replied with a frustrated sigh, “Your only other choice is go back upstairs and stare at the wall ‘til Moxxi’s ready for you. She wants to talk to you before you leave, but who knows when she'll have time for a break?” 

The club did look like it was getting much busier than before. Moxxi was behind the bar, flirting with customers more than she seemed to be mixing drinks, but the tactic seemed to be working well - the tip jar was already nearly stuffed full. 

“I can leave tonight?” Rhys asked, eyeing Nisha warily. 

“Cross my heart,” Nisha promised. “One more chat with Moxxi, and you're free to go. Only question is - how do you wanna spend your time til then?” 

Given his options, dancing did seem like it would be more fun. Rhys definitely didn't want to go back up in that room, so he finally gave Nisha a nod. “All right, I'll do it. Just one dance.” 

They returned to the dressing room, where Nisha helped him pick out a burlesque-style corset with matching bottoms that barely covered him up. It didn't take long before he was ready - and even eager - to perform. 

Before long, Lilith’s performance was over, and the DJ called Nisha to the stage. However, instead of taking the spotlight, she slid over to the microphone and made an announcement, “Sorry, everybody - change of plans. Taking my place on the stage is my very good friend Rhys! If we're lucky, maybe he'll come back and perform for us again, so make sure you show him how much you appreciate the show tonight!” 

As the music started up, Rhys began his usual routine, but being on a different stage felt more awkward than he thought it would. The pole wasn't any different from the ones at Hyperion, and it was the same dance moves he performed every night, but it still felt different. In the back of his mind, Rhys couldn't forget that Jack wasn't out there, watching him like usual. He never realized until now that having Jack nearby was such a big motivator. 

But once the crowd started to cheer and whistle and wave those dollar bills, Rhys finally found himself easing into the rhythm. As he relaxed, his natural charisma soon drew the crowd to him, drowning Rhys in dollar bills. 

When his performance finally ended, Rhys grinned from ear to ear as he quickly gathered up his tips and joined Nisha at the side of the stage. 

“Gotta say, I'm impressed,” she said, patting him on the back. She leaned over to pick up a couple small glasses from a nearby table and handed one to Rhys. “Come on, do a shot with me.” 

There was some logical part in the back of Rhys’ mind that knew this was the absolute worst idea, but he was finally in a good mood from his performance, and after the day he's had, he really could have used some hard liquor. Rhys accepted the glass and downed the alcohol in one quick gulp. The strong, burning sensation made him scrunch up his face, causing Nisha to laugh in response. 

“Not a big drinker, I take it? Come on, let's get you a chaser.” 

As she guided Rhys over to the bar, he noticed the meat-mountain of a bodyguard was no longer hovering nearby. For a moment, Rhys considered making a run for it. Giving Nisha the slip shouldn't be hard. This “Brick” standing at the door would probably give him trouble, but maybe, if he was fast enough… 

Rhys’ train of thought suddenly skidded to a halt as he suddenly remembered what he was wearing. Even if he took off the heels, this skimpy outfit was really not ideal for making a quick escape. At least Nisha promised he'd be able to go after one more chat with Moxxi. 

As soon as he sat down, Nisha left Rhys in the club owner’s hands, and Moxxi had a cocktail ready for him. “Looks like you've been having fun,” she said with a wink. 

As Rhys took a careful sip of his drink, his eyes suddenly lit up. “This tastes like candy. Did you put alcohol in here?” 

“Oh, just a little bit,” she replied with a casual wave. “So tell me, how do you like my club?” 

“It's, uh…” He hesitated, nervously gulping his drink. “I guess it's better than I thought it'd be.” 

“Glad to hear it. Now, I don't need an answer from you tonight, but seriously give it a thought,” she offered. As soon as Rhys’ drink started getting low, she automatically refilled it again. 

“How's Angel, by the way?” Moxxi asked. 

“She's good, I guess,” Rhys answered, not paying attention to how much he was drinking. 

“You only guess? Well, I suppose she's as good as she can be, what with Jack as her father,” Moxxi sighed. 

“You know, I always wondered what's her deal,” Rhys mused, getting a little chatty. “She doesn't seem to like Jack very much. But he's very protective of her.” 

“Maybe a little _too_ protective. He smothers her, you know, controlling daddy-dearest,” Moxxi sighed and poured more liquor into Rhys’ cup. “Poor kid, I just wish there was something-- You know what, sugar? Angel’s your friend, right?” 

Rhys nodded in response. 

“And you want your friends to be happy, don't you? How about this - you get Angel working for me, and you'll both get a massive signing bonus. How's that sound?” 

Rhys’ head continued to nod like a bobblehead on a bumpy road. “Moneys is nice.” 

Moxxi giggled softly in response. “It sure is, sugar.” 

The rest of the evening was almost a blur to Rhys. Moxxi made her drinks much stronger than she had let on, skillfully masking the bitterness of alcohol with sweet, fruity flavors. With his judgement completely gone, Rhys spent the rest of the night partying with the crew from the Up-Over Bar. 

The next thing he knew, he was passed out in Moxxi’s giant heart-shaped bed, once again. His drunken stupor left him a drooling, passed out mess, still in the dancer costume. He slept soundly through the night, but in the morning, he was rudely awakened much earlier than he wanted to be awake. 

The door to the bedroom slammed open with a loud thud, and an angry, yet comfortingly familiar voice rang through Rhys’ sleepy haze: 

“Up and at ‘em, pumpkin, we're blowing this joint.”


	15. Big Damn Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's be honest, Vauhhn is the real hero, here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this planned out for a while and I'm sorry I got lost in spiteful shenanigans but here it is and I had so much fun writing it 8)

“Come home with me tonight,” Jack offered.

All his efforts to separate work and personal life were completely futile at this point. Letting Rhys into his home would be a pretty big step crossing that line, but after all the sex they've had, it was a completely moot effort by now. Besides, the way the kid’s face instantly lit up at the simple suggestion was completely irresistible. Jack was taking a pretty big risk here, but so far, it had all been completely worth it. 

Rhys rushed out of the office to change his clothes while Jack finished counting his money for the night. But even after he had finished and began locking up the office, Rhys still hadn't returned. These outfits were specifically designed to be removed easily, so it shouldn't have taken so long to change out of them. 

“Hey, kiddo!” Jack called out as he made his way to the dressing room. “Don't waste time trying to look pretty. Just gonna tear those clothes off anyway, once we--” 

Jack paused once he entered the dressing room to find that it was empty. He spotted the costume Rhys had just been wearing, crooked on the hanger in the boy's haste to change into his usual clothes, but the dancer was nowhere to be seen. 

Grumbling in frustration, Jack pulled out his phone and sent a quick text: “ _Where the hell are you? Let's go._ ” 

As he waited for a reply, he checked the club again and even both restrooms, but Rhys was still missing. Jack looked back to his phone, this time calling Rhys’ number, but the line rang until it went to voicemail. 

Jack began to feel a rage bubbling up in his gut. All along, he had known that getting involved with another employee was a risk. He just had no idea it would blow up in his face this soon. 

But Rhys seemed so _excited_ to spend the night with Jack. Something wasn't adding up here. Before he could fully be consumed by his anger, Jack wondered if maybe Rhys was already waiting out by the car. It didn't make sense why he wouldn't answer his phone, but Jack held on to that last thread of hope as he left the club, making sure the place was locked and secure. 

The bright yellow car easily stood out in the darkness, but as Jack had feared, there was nobody waiting for him. His fist clenched around his keys, barely noticing the pain of metal biting into his skin. How dare that little shit make a fool of Jack like this. After everything he had done for the kid, this is how Rhys thanked him? 

Jack's eyes landed on a second vehicle that remained in the parking lot and easily recognized it as Rhys’. Perfect. He immediately began plotting his revenge, which involved a smashed windshield and slashed tires, but as he advanced on the car, Jack suddenly froze in place as common sense caught up to him. 

If Rhys’ car was still here, then where was Rhys? Why would he blow off Jack, but not take his car? There was something very unusual about all of this. 

Before doing something rash, Jack mulled over the possibilities. There was no way Rhys was locked inside the club. Jack searched everywhere, plus he didn't hear any phone ringing when he called his employee. But it still made no sense why Rhys would leave without his car. Could be that it didn't start up, so he needed a ride. In that case, it wouldn't matter, though, because he planned to leave with Jack, anyway. It was possible that crappy roommate of his could have given Rhys a ride. 

Whatever the case, the fact remained that Rhys left without a word. Jack decided he didn't care why the idiot left his car behind, but the club owner gladly took advantage of Rhys’ mistake. He found an old brick lying at the edge of the parking lot and slammed it full-force into Rhys’ windshield. The brick didn't quite make it all the way through, but it wedged nicely in the glass with ripples that spanned out from the center. 

Jack took a moment to admire his work, thinking how it actually looked kind of pretty, then returned to his own car and drove off, feeling only slightly better. 

*~*~*~* 

The next day found Jack feeling no less bitter than the night before. Since Rhys ditched him, he didn't expect the dancer to show up for work, but Jack still arrived at Hyperion early enough to sit at the bar and watch like a hawk as his employees trickled in for their shifts. 

“Is everything alright?” Angel cautiously asked as she watched her father. 

“Just peachy, sweetheart,” he replied, but there was a clearly irritated tone in his voice. 

“Rhys will be upset when he sees his car,” she continued. “This really isn't the best neighborhood to leave it parked overnight.” 

Blood boiling at the kid’s name, Jack clenched his jaw and turned on Angel. “Yeah? That asshole deserves it.” 

Angel took a step back, eyes widening in surprise. “Jack? What's going on?” 

“He stood me up last night.” Jack slammed a fist on the countertop, causing Angel to jump. “Who does that little shit think he is?” 

“That… That can't be right.” She frowned, eyebrows furrowed in concern at her father. “Since day one, Rhys has been nothing but infatuated--” 

“Are you trying to say I'm making this up?” Jack hissed and narrowed his eyes at her. 

“No! No, of course not. I just don't understand,” Angel quickly replied. “His car is still here. Why would he--” 

“It doesn't _matter_ why!” he replied, voice raising to a shout. “What matters is he _did_ , and that little bastard needs to pay.” 

As he looked over his daughter, her eyes wide and full of sadness, Jack felt some of the tension leave his chest. “Aw, babydoll, c’mere.” He moved off the barstool and slipped behind the counter to tug her into his arms. She remained tense and on-guard, but he gently ran a hand through her hair, trying to comfort her. “I'm not mad at _you_ sweetheart. I know he's your friend, but he seriously fucked me over, all right? I can't just let that slide.” 

“Yes, sir,” she muttered and pulled away once Jack released her. 

It killed him that Angel acted so distantly. He never raised a hand to her, nor would he even think to cause her any harm. He loved her more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep her safe. After everyone he had lost, she was all he had left, but sometimes it felt like she hated him. Jack had given her everything she could ever want,yet he failed to realize how badly he tended to smother her. It was a very selfish love he held for his daughter, doing only what suited himself while never taking her needs into account. 

“Hey, everyone!” Jack called out to the dressing room, where the dancers had already begun preparing for the night. He walked backstage and addressed his group of employees. “Your buddy Rhys is done. If he's stupid enough to show his idiot face, come find me immediately.” 

He didn't even bother to take any questions before turning to leave. Timothy, however, wasn't satisfied. He hurried after his boss and put a hand on Jack's arm to get his attention. 

“Wait, what do you mean he's done? Did he quit?” 

“Consider him as ‘job abandoned,’” Jack simply replied before walking away once again. 

“What do you mean?” Tim spoke up again, following the club owner. “Rhys was happy here! And I thought you two were, you know…” 

Jack's eyes widened in anger as he quickly turned on his body double. “How the hell do you know that?” 

“Was it-- was it a secret?” Timothy stammered as he shrunk back away from Jack. “I thought it was pretty obvious?” 

The club owner simply gave an exasperated grunt and turned away. “Just don't worry about it, all right?” 

Before he could be questioned further, Jack retreated into his office and locked the door. He sat at his desk, stewing in anger until even after the club opened for business. Just when he finally thought he might calm down, the screen on Jack's phone lit up with a buzz. 

There was a text from a number not listed in his address book, but it was a number he recognized well. The only question was what could Nisha possibly want now, of all times? 

The text simply read, “ _Found something of yours ❤,”_ but attached was a picture of Rhys dancing on a stage, dressed like a gaudy bar wench. 

A second message followed soon after: 

“ _Or is he ours now?”_

Another picture accompanied the second text, this time showing Rhys sitting at the bar, chatting happily with Moxxi and Lilith. 

Unable to control his temper, Jack shouted and threw his phone at wall, shattering the screen and causing the battery to fly out to the other end of the office. He sank in his chair, fingers curling in his hair as he felt the blood pounding in his brain. This was so much worse than he originally thought. Rhys didn't just blow him off - he full-out betrayed Jack. The dancer jammed his knife deep into his boss’ back, and Nisha gave it a rough twist. 

Both times he allowed himself to become romantically involved with an employee, they both defected to the Up-Over Bar. Moxxi was going to pay. Tonight, Jack planned to take Wilhelm and burn down every last square foot of that awful club. Or maybe he'd sneak in and plant drugs, maybe he'd personally wring the necks of every last person in that club. There were too many possibilities. As closing time drew near, Jack felt giddy with the thought of how he might enact his revenge. 

A frantic pounding on Jack’s door suddenly roused him from his plotting. “Get outta here!” he called. “I'm busy.” 

But the knocking only grew more desperate, and he thought he might have heard some kicks to the door as well. Whoever this was, they had no idea what they were about to walk into. Jack finally rose from his chair, ready to throw some punches, but when he opened the door, he was stunned to find Rhys’ weasley little roommate, red-faced and breathless with his glasses askew. 

“Where's Rhys?!” Vaughn instantly demanded as he stormed into the office, frantically looking around. 

“Look here, small fry, you do _not_ want to fuck with me right now,” Jack hissed, barely containing his anger. “If you see that little shithead, you tell him I _hope_ he's stupid enough to show up here, because I am just _dying_ to smash in his dumbass twink face, you got that?” 

“What do you mean, if _I_ see Rhys?!” Vaughn shouted. “Last I heard, he was staying the night with you! And now he won't answer my calls or texts, and I'm freaking out, okay?!” 

Jack growled in frustration as he gathered the pieces of his broken phone. “Bullshit! You know where that little jackass is? Here, I'll show you.” 

It took a moment to reboot his phone, but the screen was thankfully still functional enough that he was able to open Nisha’s texts and shove them in Vaughn’s face. 

“Rhys left me. Stabbed me in the back. You want Rhys? Go bother Moxxi and get the hell out of my office!” 

“Wait,” Vaughn paused and held up a hand as he caught his breath. “Rhys is with _Moxxi?_ ” 

“You didn't know?” Jack suspiciously raised an eyebrow. He could tell that Rhys was very close to his roommate. It was strange that the shrimp was clueless about all this. 

Vaughn shook his head. “That can't be right. I've been _begging_ Rhys to get a new job, but even I couldn't get him to--” 

Jack cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest with a pointed glare at the smaller man. “Come again?” 

“Look, I'm sorry if I didn't want my best friend to be a stripper!” Vaughn huffed. “But that's not the point. I know him better than anyone, and Rhys would never do this.” 

“Well, he did. Guess you don't know him as well as you thought.” Jack tried to usher Vaughn to the door, but the kid was surprisingly stronger than he looked and managed to easily resist. 

“Look, something isn't right,” he insisted. “I'm going to Moxxi’s. If you're gonna stay here and sulk, I don't care. I guess I'd just been hoping you really did care about Rhys after all.” 

Jack hesitated for a moment as he watched Vaughn walk away. Maybe there was some truth to the small fry’s words, after all. A lot of this did sound pretty strange, especially since Rhys hadn't been in contact with his roommate, of all people. Jack wouldn't put a kidnapping past Moxxi, but that didn't explain why Rhys would dance at her club. 

There was only one way he'd find the answers to his questions, so he decided to leave with Vaughn after all. “Hey, little man, wait up,” Jack called out as he left his office. 

Vaughn stopped and let out a heavy sigh of relief. “Oh thank goodness. I don't know if I could have handled this by myself.” 

Jack spotted Axton nearby, who had been flirting with a very smitten client. She seemed about ready to buy a lap dance, when Jack snapped his fingers at his employee. “You. Pretty boy. With me.” 

Axton gestured to his outfit, which consisted of nothing but black booty shorts and a bowtie. “But I--” 

“Don't need pants where we’re going. Chop chop.” Seeing the dancer leave his client, Jack turned to the bar and called out to Angel. “Honey, you're in charge while I'm gone.” As he made his way to the door, he simply addressed his bouncer, “Wilhelm.” 

With a simple nod and grunt of acknowledgement, Wilhelm readily followed Jack out of the club. 

As they made their way to the parking lot, Jack suddenly stopped when he heard a sharp gasp from Vaughn. The kid stood at the front of Rhys’ car, gasping wide-eyed in horror as he pointed to the brick that remained lodged in the windshield. 

“I _knew_ something must have happened!” 

“Uh. Yeah, sure. Don't worry about that.” Jack quickly went on to change the topic. “Hey, I've only got a two-seater. Wil’s with me. You two figure out who's gonna drive.” 

Vaughn was happy to take his car on the mission to rescue his best friend, but he seemed to struggle to keep up with Jack's urgent pace as they drove to the rival club. 

By the time they arrived, Jack found the door was already locked, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He pounded on the door just as demandingly as Vaughn had knocked on his own office door just moments ago. 

“Sorry, we're closed!” Moxxi sweetly called out from inside. “Try again tomorrow night, sugar!” 

The sound of her voice only angered Jack more, firing him up to pound even harder. 

“You heard the lady!” Brick yelled as he began to open the door, surely expecting to throw the persistent intruder to the curb, but as soon as that door opened, Wilhelm pounced on the other bouncer like an attack dog. 

Nearby, Moxxi and Lilith gasped in shock. Roland rushed forward to Brick’s aid, but was easily intercepted by Axton. Uncontested, Jack advanced on the two women. Vaughn, however, cowered behind Jack. 

“Miss me, sweetie?” he said with a dark grin. 

“You're not welcome here,” Lilith firmly protested as she placed herself between Jack and Moxxi. 

He roughly shoved her aside and glared at the other club owner. “Give me what I want, and I'm gone. Just like that.” 

“You can't just barge in here and begin making demands!” Moxxi snapped. 

Jack angrily grabbed her and shoved her back against a wall. “Where's Rhys?” 

“You're pathetic,” Moxxi scoffed, unfazed by his outburst. 

Jack chuckled at the insult. “Do you really think you're in a position to insult me right now? That's so cute, really, it's--” 

His sentence was cut off by a glass beer bottle shattering over his head. Jack instantly released Moxxi and spun around to see Lilith standing angrily with the bottleneck still in hand. 

“Huge mistake, princess,” Jack growled and lunged for her, but before he could get his hands on Lilith, Roland slipped away from Axton and slammed his weight into Jack. 

“You don't get to touch her!” Roland shouted and connected his fist with Jack's face. 

“Jack!” Wilhelm called out, but Brick kept him too occupied to come to his boss’ rescue. 

Axton hurried to try and re-engage his opponent, but before he could reach them, Vaughn jumped out of hiding and cracked a barstool over Roland's back. 

The bouncer turned with a furious glare, but paused in shock once he saw who, exactly had attacked him. “Not cool, little man.” 

The distraction was enough for Jack to return a punch to Roland's face. Axton grabbed the other man by the collar and yanked him away from Jack. He knocked Roland onto his back and and pinned him to the floor, knee to the other man's throat. 

With a sigh, Roland looked up at the other man in defeat. “Dude, where are your clothes?” 

Axton just replied with a simple shrug. Meanwhile, Wilhelm had also taken the upper hand against Brick and seemed to be having a ball as he repeatedly slammed his fist into the other bouncer’s face. 

“Wilhelm, that's enough,” Jack called out as he gingerly touched his own injury. He turned back to Moxxi, giving a self-satisfied smirk. “Your men are down, princess, so give it up. Where's Rhys?” 

“He works for me now,” Moxxi lied. “You can't force him to stay with you.” 

“Bullshit!” Vaughn suddenly shouted. “I- I mean, Rhys is my best friend. If he willingly came to work for you, I’d be the first to know. So tell us where he is, or else I'll have to file a missing person report with the police!” 

Jack would never admit it aloud, but he was impressed with the little guy. He was also surprised that he didn't already think of that simple solution, himself, but taking the violent route was always more fun, anyway. 

Moxxi exchanged a hesitant glare with Lilith before she spoke up, “You really care about this kid, don't you? You would have never done something like this for me or Nisha.” 

“Just hate people taking what's mine,” Jack snarled with a glare. 

“Fine,” Moxxi sighed. “You want him that bad? Take him. He's upstairs.” 

After instructing the rest of his crew to wait there, Jack made his way to the staircase in Moxxi’s office. This wasn't his first time here, so he found his way easily enough. He burst through the door to find Rhys lying in that giant heart-shaped bed, still wearing the frilly outfit from the pictures Nisha sent. The fact that the dancer didn't even have time to change clothes was a hint that he didn't fall asleep here, but passed out instead. 

Rhys stirred in response to the noise. He opened his eyes and blinked at Jack in a drunken - maybe even drugged - haze. 

“Up and at ‘em, pumpkin,” Jack announced, “We're blowing this joint.” Rhys happily reached out to him and Jack scooped him. 

“Jack,” the younger man muttered, nuzzling his face into Jack’s neck. “You came for me.” 

“Couldn't let Moxxi get her grubby hands on my special boy, could I?” he replied as he carried him out of the room. 

“My hero,” Rhys sighed contentedly as he drifted back to sleep in Jack's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, I gift you the mental image of Axton wrestling in booty shorts. Good day.


	16. Jack's Special Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut, basically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME SO LONG. I had been feeling too drained to think, and then I moved out of state, but I decided my bus commute was a good opportunity for fic, so TAADAAAAAAA!! And it's porn!

By the time Rhys woke up, it was already past noon. He had slept so deeply and for so long, that he was completely disoriented as to what time it was, or even whose bed this was. It was much softer and comfortable than what he was used to, which made it so tempting to just roll over and go back to sleep.

But he suddenly remembered everything that had happened the night before, how Moxxi had shut him in her special “playroom” to spend the night. Rhys jolted upright and took in his surroundings. Thankfully, this wasn't the same gaudy heart-shaped bed where he had fallen asleep, but that fact provided very little comfort. He still had no idea where he was. 

The king sized bed, at least, was a normal rectangle shape with the softest comforter Rhys had ever touched in his life. The room had a minimalist, modern decor, with a large full-length mirror mounted on the wall. Sunlight beamed into the room from a set of French doors leading out to a balcony that provided an incredible view of the city. 

But Rhys didn't have time to admire how nice this bedroom looked. Eager to get out of here and go home, he slipped out of bed and suddenly realized that at some point, someone had changed his clothes and slipped on a pair of flannel pants. He couldn't go out wearing just this, so the first step had to be finding something decent to wear. 

Looking for a closet, Rhys opened a door that led to a massive master bathroom, which appeared much more lavish and over-the-top than the bedroom. The standing shower was big enough to hold a few people, with two showerheads and other smaller spray nozzles in the wall. There was also a Jacuzzi-style tub with built-in seats, with fancy oils and soaps lining the ledge. The vanity was set up with two sinks, expecting a couple would be using the bathroom, but based on the various toiletries and hair products littered over the counter, it was clear just one man used this bath. But the true pièce de résistsnce of the room was the toilet. It stood out like a shining golden throne with a diamond studded seat cover. 

Rhys moved closer to the toilet and curiously leaned in, scratching a nail over the surface, as if that would make any difference. He had no experience with this sort of thing to tell if it was just gold plated, or even real gold at all. Still, he thought it was such an odd thing for anyone to have. He was so distracted by this, he hadn't even noticed someone else had entered the room. 

“About time you woke up.” Jack's voice suddenly broke the silence, causing Rhys to jump up, eyes darting towards where the man stood in the doorway, as though he were just caught during some shameful act. 

“Jack?” Rhys calmed down, feeling safe with Jack nearby. He had so much to drink last night, he didn't remember his boss taking him out of Moxxi’s at all. Still, he was in a bit of a groggy daze, so rather than ask the important questions, he spoke whatever thought happened to be at the front of his mind. “Why do you have a golden toilet?” 

“Because I'm rich, and I can,” Jack replied as he moved closer to Rhys, tilting his head in concern. “How are you feeling, kiddo?” 

“Tired,” he replied, rubbing an eye with the heel of his palm. 

“I'm not surprised. You had kind of a wild day yesterday, huh?” Jack folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. 

“Moxxi… She kidnapped me, and…” Rhys paused, eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what happened. “You came for me?” 

“Damn right, I did,” he said with a grin. “Couldn't let anyone else get their grubby hands on my Rhysie, could I?” Jack reached an arm out to tug the younger man closer. “You should've seen the fight I started just to get you back.” 

The dancer felt his face heat up a little as he allowed himself to press closer to Jack. “A fight? Like, for real?” 

“An actual brawl. Just for you.” 

Rhys almost knocked Jack off balance with the way he threw himself at the older man so vigorously. He slipped his arms around Jack's shoulders and pressed an enthusiastic kiss to his lips. As Jack kissed back and securely took the dancer into his arms, Rhys felt a new sense of security he had never felt with anyone before. 

He was so lost in the moment, that Rhys had nearly forgotten they were still in the middle of a bathroom, until Jack began to carefully guide him towards the door. 

They never broke the kiss the whole way to the bed. When the back of Jack's knees hit the mattress, he allowed himself to fall back, tugging Rhys down with him. The dancer finally broke the kiss to laugh softly, but Jack kept going, kissing whatever part of Rhys’ neck he could reach. 

“You changed my clothes?” the younger man asked as he sat up to watch Jack. 

“Didn't think that saloon whore outfit looked too comfy to sleep in,” he replied. 

“It wasn't, but…” Rhys’ thumbs played at the waistband of his pants. “Not like there was any point to putting these on.” 

Jack grinned widely at the implication and immediately reached forward to remove the impeding garment, but Rhys quickly caught his wrist. 

“Let me do it,” the dancer insisted and gently pushed on Jack's chest. “You just lie back and enjoy yourself. My big, strong hero~” He punctuated his words a roll of his hips, earning a groan from the older man. 

Rhys had become quite skilled in teasing men and women every night by removing his clothes, but tonight was not one of those nights. He eagerly slipped out of his pants and tossed them aside before working open the other man's jeans. As soon as he was able to tug Jack's waistband down far enough, Rhys wasted no time wrapping his lips around the head of the older man's cock. 

“Hang on, pumpkin,” Jack spoke up just as Rhys began to bob his head. “While I appreciate the enthusiasm, this isn't a race, you know.” 

With a sheepish grin, Rhys pulled up and wiped at the drool already trickling down the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, Daddy.” 

Those words just seemed to naturally slip from the dancer’s tongue. He hadn't planned to say it, but it just seemed like the kind of kink his boss might be into. 

Rhys was wrong. 

Jack leaned up on his elbows and narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “Seriously, kiddo? What the hell, are you trying to kill the mood or something?” 

“Wh-- No! I thought…” 

“Last thing I need is a reminder that I've got a daughter your age. Now shut up and get that mouth of yours working on something more useful.” 

Rhys understood that he fucked up, but he still couldn't help giving a stubborn pout as he leaned back down and replied, “Yes, _Sir.”_

“Much better,” Jack nearly purred as the younger man slid his tongue up his length. 

This time, Rhys made sure to slow down, nearly worshipping every inch as he gently sucked and licked over the sensitive skin. He glanced up to watch Jack's reaction and was glad to see he looked quite pleased. The older man had an arm folded behind his head and reached down with his free hand to gently run his fingers through Rhys’ hair, seeming content to appreciate the view, for now. 

Feeling more confident, Rhys began to bob his head more quickly, rubbing his tongue along Jack's length as he moved his head. As he felt the fingers in his hair curl and tighten, it was the only warning he was given before Jack roughly jerked his hips up into the dancer's throat. Rhys couldn't keep himself from gagging, but once he was over the initial shock, he tried his best to relax and just let Jack use him however he wanted. 

Rhys’ jaw began to ache, but that only motivated him to please his boss and try to finish him sooner. Before that could happen, though, Jack finally pulled himself away. The dancer automatically leaned in, lips still parted, as though he were almost desperate to get his mouth back on the other man. 

“That's enough, pumpkin,” Jack spoke with a breathy chuckle. “Still plenty of time to have fun before I'm finished.” 

He reached over to dig a bottle of lube out of the nightstand, which Rhys eagerly tried to grab. “I can do it,” the younger man offered. “Like I said, just enjoy yourself.” 

Jack readily gave up the bottle with a grin, and Rhys wasted no time spreading the liquid over his fingers. He straddled Jack's hips, knees spread wide apart, and arched his back to give the older man a nice show as he reached behind to slip a finger into himself. After a moment, he slipped in a second finger, innocently biting his lip with a soft moan. 

“Shit, babycakes…” Jack muttered as he reached a hand forward and slid it up Rhys’ thigh and along his hip, admiring the sight in front of him. As his hand reached the younger man's cock, he took it in a firm grip and began stroking at a slow pace. “You look good enough to be a porn star.” 

Under normal circumstances, Rhys might complain at that “compliment,” but everything felt too good to risk ruining the mood again. He actually wasn't sure what came over him, though, because without thinking, he offered, “You wanna take a video?” 

“Shit, yeah, I do,” Jack readily answered and immediately pulled away to reach for his phone. 

“But _only_ if no one else will see it. Ever,” Rhys insisted, pausing to shoot Jack a stern look. 

“Hell no. I'm not sharing you with anyone,” the older man replied as he opened the camera function to take a video. 

Rhys could feel his face heating up and already felt ridiculous for having suggested it. Though, he tried his best to ignore the camera. His eyes fell shut as he simply focused on how good this felt. It didn't take long before Jack’s hand was back on his length, and Rhys really did forget that the older man was filming this. He eagerly added a third finger, thrusting into himself more quickly. 

Once he couldn't wait any longer, Rhys pulled his hand away and grabbed the lube once more to spread it over Jack’s arousal. With his free hand, the older man gripped Rhys’ hip, rubbing encouragingly with his thumb. 

“Attaboy,” Jack purred as the dancer positioned himself over his cock. 

Rhys gripped the other man and carefully began to seat himself as he guided Jack inside. Suddenly remembering the camera, Rhys made sure to lean back and purposely give the best show he could. 

“You take it so good, princess,” Jack chimed in once again. 

“‘Cause you feel amazing,” Rhys groaned, slowly rolling his hips. He used every trick he learned as a dancer to move his hips and angle his body just the right ways. “I can't get enough of you.” 

The older man responded with a pleased sigh and finally set his phone aside. Apparently, he didn't have the patience to simply watch for much longer. With both hands free, Jack gripped Rhys more tightly by the hips and tried to roughly thrust up into the younger man. 

Rhys, however, pushed down against him more firmly and braced his hands against Jack’s chest to keep him still. “I keep telling you, let me do the work. This is your reward, big guy.” 

“Wish you'd go a little faster,” Jack grumbled. 

“You just had to ask,” Rhys pointed out, trying not to sound too annoyed. But he did as he was told, using one hand to grip the headboard for leverage as he eagerly rocked down against the other man. 

As Rhys picked up the pace, Jack still couldn't resist putting his hands on the other man. He let Rhys do the work, as he was told, but his hands roamed up the dancer's thighs, along his waist, and over his backside. He worked his way higher, appreciating Rhys’ form, until he reached the younger man's chest. He paused to teasingly pinch a nipple, earning a sharp gasp from Rhys. 

Feeling Jack's hands all over his body nearly drove the dancer wild. He bucked his hips, writhing under the older man's touch as Jack pinched a little harder at the sensitive bit of flesh. But with one last gentle graze of his thumb, Jack slowly pulled his hand away. 

Rhys whined in disappointment, but Jack replied, “Sit up, sweetheart. I want to watch you come.” 

As Rhys began to pull away, Jack moved his hand down to take the younger man's length in a firm grip. Rhys bucked up into the touch as he began to eagerly bounce on Jack's lap. “Yes, please, I'm so close…!” 

With the older man's hand quickly working along his cock, it didn't take much longer before Rhys arched his back and hit his peak with a choked cry. Jack continued slowly stroking him through it until he had spilled every last drop. Even then, Jack teasingly used his thumb to smear the remaining mess over the head. Already oversensitive, Rhys whined softly and reflexively jerked his hips. 

“You're a real sight, babycakes, you know that?” Jack muttered as he finally pulled his hand away. 

For a moment, Rhys barely felt able to comprehend words, though he knew it was a compliment. He allowed Jack to nudge and guide him onto his back. The older man threw Rhys’ legs over his shoulders and roughly thrust into him again. 

As Jack quickly chased his own release, Rhys could feel him hitting just the right spot inside him. He whined and writhed, fingers clawing at the mattress until he came a second time. Not quite as much as the first, but the way he tensed up around Jack, it didn't take much longer before the other man followed right behind, releasing deep into Rhys. 

After they both had wound down, Jack pulled away and flopped down on the mattress beside Rhys with a content, heavy sigh. “Shit, kiddo, did I make you come _twice?_?” 

The dancer could feel his face heating up as he awkwardly glanced away. “That's never happened before.” 

“What can I say? I'm incredible,” Jack replied with a cocky grin. He stretched and started to pull himself out of bed. “And so are you.” 

Rhys was totally unaware of the stupid grin that spread over his face as he watched the older man head for the bathroom. It wasn't so long ago that simple attention from Jack was flattering, and now here he was, in Jack’s bed, being told he's awesome. 

But the afterglow was suddenly interrupted as one more thought entered Rhys’ mind. He jolted upright, wincing slightly at the ache in his backside. 

“What's wrong, pumpkin?” Jack asked as he returned to the bedroom with a towel. 

“Vaughn! It's been almost two days since he's heard from me!” Rhys said, almost in a panic. “Where's my phone?!” 

“Relax, it's right here.” Jack grabbed the phone off a dresser and tossed it onto the mattress, along with the towel. “And your little buddy knows what happened. It's fine.” 

“You talked to Vaughn?” Rhys’ eyebrows raised in surprise as he reached for his phone. 

“He found me, actually,” the older man replied, sitting down beside Rhys. “He thought _I'm_ the one who kidnapped you. Seriously, me, of all people.” 

The dancer offered a sheepish grin as he paused to clean himself with the towel. “He maybe doesn't really trust you? But it's just ‘cause he doesn't know you all that well!” 

“Well, he better watch it. I didn't appreciate his attitude.” Jack paused to give a dismissive scoff. “As if I'd let anything happen to my special boy.” 

Being called his “special boy” gave Rhys a surge of butterflies in his gut, but the hostile attitude towards his roommate still had him a little concerned. “Vaughn is my best friend. He's my bro. If something happens, he's gonna get worried. Just don't take it personally. If you did all that to save me, I'm sure that earned you mega bro-points with him.” 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jack grumbled and reclined back onto the mattress. 

As Rhys scrolled through his phone, his inbox looked exactly as he had expected - loaded with unread messages from the whole gang, but most notably Vaughn. There were a few voicemails too, but Rhys was pretty sure they'd all be panicked messages telling him to respond, so he ignored them for now. Even if Jack did let him know what happened, Rhys still decided to shoot his best friend a quick text letting him know he was safe and with Jack. 

He set his phone aside once more and nestled against Jack, who slipped an arm around Rhys’ shoulders. The dancer knew he'd have to get back to the real world soon, but for now, he tried not to think about work, aside from his incredible boss, of course. As the two men relaxed peacefully alongside one another, Nisha’s warnings seemed like nothing more than a ridiculous fiction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe I made it to 16 chapters, how the fuck

**Author's Note:**

> So for this fic I kind of have a rough idea for what I want to do with this, but I'm open to other ideas if there's anything you guys want to see happening 8)
> 
> Also I guess this is my Tumblr btw, if anyone was wondering: commander-amatus.tumblr.com
> 
> You can come be my friend, I don't bite!


End file.
